


Just As Fast, Twice As Dangerous

by lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (both the sexy and non sexy kind), (not from Zayn), A wide range of superpowers, All of Ot5 are students, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mind Control, Misunderstanding, Natural Disasters, OT5, Pining, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Small bouts of Violence, Smut, Sub Zayn, Subspace, Superhero Zayn, Swearing, Telekinesis, also has, and pyrokenesis, but Zayn's an empath, gentle dom liam, so many pet names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-12 19:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20569454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarah_writes/pseuds/lightswoodmagic
Summary: When he realised it was only him and Liam in the hallway, he felt safe enough to drop his shield.Oh. Lovely.Liam was emanating affection and fondness, his primary emotions filled with warmth and love. Zayn let himself bask in it, how it would feel to be loved by Liam. He knew Liam loved him, but he wasn’t in love with him; Zayn had felt that emotion too many times to count, and this just wasn’t it. He dug slightly deeper, could feel that Liam was excited and nervous, and when he hit a wall Liam had built himself, he dropped back. He wasn’t supposed to know everything.Or, Zayn's a normal student by day, and a superhero by night. When a mysterious man seems to target him at the same time a natural disaster strikes, Zayn has to figure out a way to save the day, protect his heart, and convince the boys he's not a vigilante all at the same time.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zcinmalik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zcinmalik/gifts).

> First of all, a massive thank you to Dee and Rebecca for running the exchange, and for all of the incredible support along the way.  
A huge thank you to zcinmalik for the prompt. I was so thrilled when I got the prompts and they all mentioned Zayn. I hope you enjoy the fic! :) I tried to make sure I popped in as many of you requests as possible.  
So, so much love to Caroline, my beta and number one cheerleader, as well as my group chats, especially Sam for how much she let me word vomit at her. I’m endlessly grateful.  
I'm incredibly happy with this fic, especially because I've never written anything like it before. I hope that you all love it too xx

It was rare for Zayn to study in the library, a seemingly innocent place shrouded in stillness and quiet. On cold, Friday nights like this one, most people were either huddled up in their dorms or getting dangerously drunk at a frat house, and it showed in the small handful of students scattered amongst the tables. The only sounds in the expansive room were the soft rustle of turning pages, exasperated sighs and huffs of frustrations, the soft hum of the heating system, and the gentle tapping of keys. It was the perfect place for students to study, to concentrate without having to block out noise or distractions.

For Zayn, the room was stifling, the noise deafening, every single person hurling emotions at him in a way that made him grumble into his book.

The girl in the corner had just broken up with her boyfriend, fear and grief rolling off of her in waves that hit Zayn straight in the chest. He winced in sympathy, just about to throw up the mental shield that took the brunt of it all when a new emotion settled in his skin from across the room. He took his glasses off, setting them down gently to concentrate on the unfamiliar feeling swirling uncomfortably through his veins. He looked up, locking eyes with the girl and – _oh_. _Oh no._ He quickly dropped his gaze, his face flushing just as he recognised it, hidden under the sadness and entwined with guilt and determination; lust, and a confusing feeling of want. He felt a pang of sympathy again, understanding the difficult feeling of thinking you could get over a break-up or get revenge on your ex by sleeping with someone else. He shifted uncomfortably, always awkward when he could tell someone thought he was attractive. It was a compliment, something he appreciated to a degree, but he swiftly moved his attention to the boy sitting a few tables down.

Ah. He recognised that unique feeling of pain, shivering when it pushed straight through his skin and into his bones. He gritted his teeth to push back, not let it envelop him. Dealing with it once had been enough. Shame, self-hatred, confusion and anxiety. He let himself focus enough to send a jolt of softness and acceptance over to him, something he rarely did but felt necessary here. Struggling with your sexuality when it felt like the world was against you was a harsh force, and he settled back into his chair when he felt the boy’s emotions retract and be replaced by soothing warmth and a sense of calm.

He looked back down at his notes with a sigh, rubbing his temples before he slid his glasses back on, picking up his pen and idly twirling it between his fingers. It weaved effortlessly through his fingers as he read over the slides from his lecture, a soothing habit that let him concentrate. He focused on his work, the pen weaving over, under, over, under, gaining speed until he realised the pen wasn’t even touching his fingers anymore. It was moving through the air independently, Zayn’s fingers still making the small motions just an inch underneath, and he rolled his eyes before letting it slowly fall to rest on the table with a twist of his hand. He shot a quick glance around the room to make sure no one saw, and when all he noticed was noses to desks and no change in emotions, he let his mental shield come back up, altering it slightly with a twitch of his nose to let in anything that was positive. He needed it today.

It was always exhausting to be around people, to be in any kind of space that didn’t hold just his family or close friends. He’d had enough time to hone his skills over the years that he was able to handle those he was closest to, could deal with their sudden drops in joy or twisted feelings of regret or depression. He tried his hardest not to tamper with them, to let people _feel_, but there were times when he couldn’t sit idly by while his best friend or mum was suffering so much that he could feel it in his bones.

The fact that he was used to it didn’t stop him from being affected. Zayn had been able to read emotions in a room since before he could remember, could pick up on any individuals feelings, no matter how deep, and while he couldn’t read minds, he’d had enough practice over the years to have a fair idea of what someone was thinking by what they were mentally projecting. He could manipulate anyone’s emotions and could stop someone from making a terrible decision, help them through their day, or simply calm them down. Zayn hadn’t discovered his ability to block it all out until he was in high school, when it all started to become too much. Kids were easy to deal with; straightforward, open, rarely hiding their feelings on purpose. Teenagers, on the other hand – high school had almost _killed_ Zayn.

He’d practiced generating a mental shield after his first day, after the anger and confusion, the anxiety and fear had sunk into him and turned him cold. He’d never been _so affected_ before to the point where they all felt like they were _his_ emotions; _his_ anger, _his_ fear, for things he didn’t understand and couldn’t name. Now, the shield was an absolute necessity for stopping it all overpowering him and becoming too much, letting him focus on honing his other abilities just as well.

The crime fighting had come later.

Just as he’d finally started to concentrate enough to write a few paragraphs of his essay that he’d _stupidly_ left until the last minute (honestly what the _fuck_ was he thinking), he jolted up with a gasp as someone threw themselves into the seat across from him.

“Mate, you told me you’d finished that last week.” Zayn felt a soft kick to his ankle under the table and when he looked up, Louis’ arms were folded across his chest as he rolled his eyes.

“I know, I know,” Zayn mumbled, grinning when he saw the beginnings of a smirk on Louis’ face, “but I just wanted you to stop hounding me about it. Don’t really give a fuck about renaissance art, ‘f I’m honest.” He returned Louis’ gesture with a quick tap to his foot. “How’s your performance prep coming?”

Louis let out a loud groan, whipping around with a guilty wave and a _‘sorry love’_ when the girl in the corner shushed him as Zayn snorted and settled back into his chair. “It’s been a fucking nightmare, Malik. You’d think none of these people had ever acted before, let alone been studying it for three fucking years,” Louis’ hands flew around as he spoke, and Zayn followed each movement as he tried to hide the amusement on his face, “and honestly mate, all I want to do is go home and sleep for three days straight. That’s it. That’s all I want.”

“That’s all you want?”

“All I’ve ever wanted in the world, babe.”

Zayn scoffed, chasing the rough sound quickly with a chuckle. He watched carefully as Louis shifted, and finally seemed to take in the bags under his eyes, the incessant tapping of his hands on his own knee, and the fact his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Zayn’s eyebrows drew together as he let his shield crack slightly before he asked, knowing it was a risk. “Sorted everything out with Harry yet?”

Louis stiffened slightly in his chair, but only just enough that anyone who didn’t know him like Zayn did wouldn’t have noticed. Zayn also knew he had the added benefit of experiencing the confusing cocktail of emotions slipping into his head where he’d purposefully left himself vulnerable; a strong feeling of fondness, a hint of fear and sadness and…hope? He closed the gap when Louis opened his mouth to respond.

“There was nothing wrong with me and Harry.”

Fuck he could be stubborn. Zayn had to close his eyes briefly so they didn’t roll into the back of his head. “Lou. You just called him Harry. I think you’ve only done that once in the entire time you’ve known him.”

“It’s his name Zayn, what do you want me to call him?” Louis’ voice was as sharp as his collarbones, but Zayn pushed on.

“Oh, I don’t know, anything else you’ve ever called him? Haz, Hazza, Styles, Harold, love, darling, that one time I _know_ you called him baby -.” Zayn cut himself off when Louis let out a choked sound and shook his head.

“Zayn, we’re _fine._”

“Louis, c’mon babe,” Zayn knew he should stop, could drop the shield to feel the anger burning away under Louis’ skin, but he held firm. “I can tell something’s wrong, ever since that party at Ni’s place, yeah?”

Louis finally looked up at him, his eyes almost pleading, and Zayn’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest when Louis’ voice was nothing more than a whisper. “Please, just – just drop it Zayn. I can’t – I’m not ready to talk about it.”

They stared at each other across the table, any white noise from the library seeming to have disappeared, until Zayn nodded quickly. Louis looked away, relief flowing from him strongly enough that Zayn just let his shield drop – he was too distracted for it be effective anyway. “Yeah Lou. ‘Course.”

“Thanks mate,” came the quiet reply, and then they both buried themselves in their assignments.

Not before Zayn felt a gentle foot tap against his ankle that he trapped between his feet, though.

He had no idea how much time had passed when Louis stretched across from him, a loud high pitched yawn escaping him as he twisted. “Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here. I’m starving.” They were just on their way out, bags over their shoulders, when Zayn felt it; a second too late, apparently, as he fastened his shield back up.

“You both have to come out tonight because I want to get fuckin’ wasted and Harry has plans,” Niall’s voice cut through the quiet of the room like a knife, and Harry’s weak chuckle did nothing to settle the fact that Zayn had felt Louis tense up as soon as he’d seen them. He was saved from having to answer when Louis spoke.

“Oh really? What are you up to tonight, dear Harold?” Louis was aiming for cheery, but Zayn immediately saw through it, the obvious use of an old nickname used just to placate him, or jar Harry. He saw Harry flinch as if Louis had physically hurt him, and Zayn realised that maybe Louis wasn’t as subtle with anyone as he thought it was.

Maybe it was also that Harry knew Louis better than anyone, superpowers aside.

“Ah well I’ve, um.” Harry was fidgeting as he spoke, and Zayn let the shield slip slightly out of curiosity. Harry was an overall feeling of nerves, pushed to the surface to almost hide what was underneath. Zayn let the barrier drop further, pushing to find what was underneath, and he felt his eyebrows quirk when he recognised the intertwined tumble of emotions Harry was struggling to hide. A heavy feeling of guilt. A strong longing for - Zayn made a soft noise and dug deeper, his eyes locked on where Harry’s hands rubbed against each other. It didn’t help find the source of Harry’s want, but it did let him feel the dark twist of sadness that seemed to be lingering in Harry’s bones. _God, Haz._ He was just about to push out a soft feeling of warmth when Harry spoke again. “I’ve got a date.”

Zayn didn’t have time to guard himself before it happened.

He watched as Louis’ hand twitched and braced himself, his eyes slipping closed as he inhaled sharply.

Then there is was, like a tangible force crashing into him and almost making him stagger backwards. Waves of red hot anger tangled harshly in his nerves, pushed fear and green laps of jealousy through his veins. His head swam as he tried to grapple onto a single feeling, one sliver of sanity in Louis’ emotions, but it slipped through his fingers just as a sadness so strong crushed him. He forced his eyes open, flinging his hand out and throwing his arm around Louis’ shoulder where he was tense and poised, ready for a fight. Louis’ face gave nothing away apart of the clench in his jaw.

Everything dulled slightly as Louis seemed to settle under Zayn’s touch. It wasn’t enough to completely pull himself back together, but it let him concentrate enough to pull his shield back up, forcing the last of the self-loathing and frustration pouring off of Louis back out of his own body and into the open air. He sighed heavily, gripped Louis’ shoulder in what he hoped what a comforting gesture, gathered up every happy thought he’d ever had, and let it flow through him straight into his best mate. He pushed warmth and love and kindness into every crevice of Louis’ mind that he could, only easing up when he felt Louis relax slightly into his side.

If Zayn had learnt one thing over the last three years, it was that no one he’d ever met felt emotions like Louis did, felt them in a way Zayn could feel quite so strongly or all encompassing. Louis tried to keep everything in, had seemed to convince himself that hiding his own negative feelings somewhere he couldn’t feel them all the time was the thing that let him take care of everyone else. He seemed to think it was the only thing that allowed him to support Zayn’s art and encourage Liam in everything he did, that let him give Niall piggyback rides to class and that let him _love_ Harry.

Because there was no denying it. Zayn knew that Louis was in love with Harry, even though he’d never admitted it out loud.

He didn’t need to. Zayn felt it every time that he dared to let his shield fall around Louis, because he couldn’t do it every day. Louis repressed everything to the point that the only out he had, the only way he could survive, was to let it fester until he imploded and it came out in a rush, an overwhelming wave of pressure that Zayn couldn’t escape. It left Zayn exhausted, a deep and constant thrumming of something he couldn’t explain.

He shouldn’t have let his guard drop. He should’ve known better.

He’d just slumped slightly when he felt an overwhelming sense of comfort, a feeling of affection and sunshine flowing through him, even through the shield. He sighed happily as recognition flooded his senses before he even saw him.

_Liam_.

There was a warm hand at the small of his back, a slightly possessive drag across until he felt strong fingers wrap gently around his waist and tug until he fell easily against Liam’s side. Zayn let his arm drop from Louis’ shoulder with one last squeeze as he leant against Liam more firmly with a soft noise. He felt Liam’s fingers pull him more firmly against his body, felt the blush rise to his face, and steadfastly ignored Louis’ quirked eyebrow and sly smile when Liam’s lips brushed his ear.

“You alright?” Liam’s breath was hot against the shell of his ear, and Zayn couldn’t supress the shudder that went through his system. He could hear Louis telling Niall that he’d go out with him, that he was looking to take someone home, but he couldn’t focus on trying to subtly kick Louis to _shut him up, just look at Harry’s face, you wanker_ when Liam was so close.

He turned his head slightly, their noses brushing together before Zayn pulled back quickly with a sharp inhale. Too close, too much, too easy to finally say _fuck it_ and launch himself at Liam until he couldn’t feel anything but skin and heat, that overwhelming contrast of soft and hard that Zayn just somehow knew Liam would be able to provide like no one else. Maybe he needed to lay off of Louis; he wasn’t the only one in love with his best mate, after all.

“Zayn?”

He blinked quickly when he realised he’d just been staring at Liam, lost in his own mind. “Sorry,” he murmured, searching Liam’s face and feeling his heart thump painfully when he got a soft smile in return. “I’m fine though, why?” He turned his body slightly, letting his hand come up to tug at the bottom of Liam’s shirt.

“I just know you don’t like awkward situations and I could feel the tension the second I saw you all,” Liam explained with a gentle laugh that lit Zayn up from the bottom of his stomach. Zayn could still hear the other boys talking; Niall’s cheerful tone, Harry’s defeated hesitance, and Louis fake nonchalance about the whole thing. He let himself tune it out again and focus on the man in front of him, his kind eyes crinkling at the sides as he grinned at Zayn.

“Thanks,” Zayn’s voice was slightly shaky but if Liam noticed, he ignored it. He let himself be selfish for a minute and grazed his fingertips along Liam’s stomach where his hand had slipped under his shirt. He felt him tense and quickly pulled back, his whole body flushing with shame. No matter what he did, he knew Liam didn’t feel the same.

It was fine. Zayn was fine.

Until Liam dropped his waist to run his hand through Zayn’s hair, a gesture Zayn knew he did when he could tell Zayn had a bad day. He nuzzled into the touch and just before he closed his eyes, he noticed the small quirk of Liam’s lips even when he turned to talk to Harry. Liam’s touch was rhythmic and soothing, somehow managing to recharge Zayn’s energy, and he shifted closer again to let his head fall to Liam’s chest as he hummed. He’d managed to block out all of the noise, concentrate on the feeling of Liam’s fingers as they gently untangled any knots and his thumb stroked his temple, before he was startled as Liam scratched at his scalp.

“Wha’?” Zayn didn’t move from where he was resting against Liam, but he loosened his grip on the bottom of his shirt where he’d unknowingly tangled his fingers. He rolled his eyes when he saw Louis’ sly grin, Niall’s twinkling eyes, and Harry’s smirk, obvious even though Harry’s bottom lip was caught between his own fingers.

“Just wonderin’ if you wanted to come out with me and Tommo, both of you,” Niall was bouncing on his toes as he spoke, “because it’s been ages since either of you have come with us! Zaynie, I don’t think you’ve ever come out actually. It’s time, mate!”

_For valid reasons,_ Zayn thought as he stiffened. He could only vaguely remember the one and only time he’d ever gone to a club, just after his birthday when there was no way he could’ve known what he was in for. He’d been overwhelmed the second he walked in, drowned by happiness and sex as it throbbed through the air. He could remember stealing someone’s drink, could remember dancing as the emotions of everyone around turned him on more and more as he lost control of his shield, the alcohol too much. He remembered it being the first night he’d gone home with a stranger, when he needed the physical touch and emotional release that came from the only thing that got him out of head, and really experienced what it was like when someone pretended to know the ins and outs of what he needed. He’d left slightly broken, been tossed out in a way that made him drop the hardest he could ever remember. He wasn’t going to risk it again, regardless of the fact he had more control now and would be with his best friends.

He shook his head and let a small smile cross his lips. “Nah sorry Ni, not my scene. I’m gonna stay in.”

“On your own? I can stay in with you.” Louis was watching him carefully as he spoke, but when Zayn declined the offer with a shake of his head, he shrugged and moved his attention to Liam. “What about you, Payno?”

Zayn’s fingers unconsciously twisted back into the bottom of Liam’s shirt. He’d never ask him to stay in, never _expect_ or _want _him to miss out on anything just because now there was a buzzing, a feeling of tightness settling at the back of his skull that only came when he’d had a draining few days. Whatever Louis and Harry were feeling had pushed him over the edge. He knew only Liam seemed to be able to help calm him for a while with a cuddle on his bed or a brush of his lips over Zayn’s temple, as platonic as his actions were.

Somehow, Liam knew what he needed anyway, just like always.

“Nah Lou, think I’m just going to stay in with Zayn, keep him company,” Liam said easily, but Zayn was grateful for the reassuring hand that snaked down to fit into the curve of his waist.

Louis rolled his eyes, but his eyes stayed fond as he watched the two of them; Zayn tried to send him a subtle glare. “Alright, alright, too easy! I suppose we should let Hazza go get ready for his _big date_. Have a good night in, boys!” Louis didn’t let Zayn answer, too busy ignoring Harry’s mumble of _‘it’s not a big deal Lou, please’_ as the three of them left, their bickering swallowed up by the wind outside. Zayn watched them leave, and when he realised it was only him and Liam in the hallway, he felt safe enough to drop his shield.

_Oh_. _Lovely_.

Liam was emanating affection and fondness, his primary emotions filled with warmth and love. Zayn let himself bask in it, how it would feel to be loved by Liam. He knew Liam loved him, but he wasn’t _in _love with him; Zayn had felt that emotion too many times to count, and this wasn’t it. He dug slightly deeper, could feel that Liam was excited and nervous, and when he hit a wall Liam had built himself, he dropped back. He wasn’t supposed to know everything.

“Do you wanna come back to mine? We can order in and watch The Dark Knight,” Liam murmured, his arms wrapping around Zayn’s shoulders and pulling him back into his body so they were back to chest. “I can tell that you need it, babe. Let me take care of you.”

_Let me take care of you._

A new swirl of something that Zayn couldn’t put his finger on, hidden underneath layers of happiness. Being taken care of was exactly what he needed.

He just needed more than what Liam could give him. “Yeah, sounds perfect.”

*****

Zayn had met Liam on his first day of classes. He’d been so distracted by the new feeling of pure warmth floating through the air that he walked straight into the person responsible for it; a strong hand had reached out to steady him, a soft voice checking to see if he was okay, warm eyes and a frown set into lips so full that Zayn had actually swayed forward. He’d been instantly attracted to him, so much so that he’d accidentally picked up his books off the floor with a simple twist of his wrist without even bending down.

It’d only gotten worse when Liam _insisted_ they go out for lunch so he could make it up to Zayn, even though it wasn’t his fault. Zayn had learnt that the handsome stranger was kind, caring, had a gorgeous laugh, loved animals and comics and his family and _music_ and _art_ and Zayn had been free falling ever since. His new roommate had thought he was dead when the first time they’d met had involved Zayn face down and sprawled on his bed as he tried to recover from his afternoon; him and Louis had bonded over boys that night, and Louis had known his secret ever since.

There’d just never been a perfect time. There’d been other boys, other girls, stressful exam periods and going home for the holidays. They’d become best friends so quickly that Zayn hadn’t wanted to ruin it with something that he could keep hidden and locked away. Louis had tried to tell him time and time again that Liam looked at him the same, his soft eyes and an adoring expression, but Louis didn’t know what Zayn knew; he couldn’t feel it like Zayn could. Besides, Zayn always just bought up Harry and that was all it took for Louis‘ mouth to snap shut. There’d been moments when he’d thought maybe, on days where Liam couldn’t stop staring at his mouth, or when he found excuses to press up against him, or the blinding jealously Zayn felt from him every time someone tried to pick him up. So no, it wasn’t a secret that Liam thought Zayn was attractive too, but it wasn’t enough. Besides, Zayn knew he’d never be good enough for Liam regardless of how desperately in love with him he was. The people Liam had always dated were loud and confident; they didn’t fade into the background like he knew he did. They’d also _always_ hated Zayn, had projected it so strongly that it had made Zayn hate himself at times. Liam had always been affectionate with him and none of their friends had ever thought twice, but Liam’s partners weren’t quite so understanding. They didn’t understand that it’s just how Liam _was_. All they saw was his arm around Zayn, his hand in Zayn’s hair, him sitting in Zayn’s lap when there was nowhere else but the floor.

None of these people mattered now though, when Zayn was curled up against Liam’s body on his couch, Liam’s hand resting gently on the back of his neck. Zayn’s shield was up, letting him focus fully on his own emotions, the tangled mess that they were when every touch from Liam seemed to make him melt further into his side.

He tried to follow what was happening on the screen as the Joker slammed someone’s head into a table even though he’d watched this movie in this exact spot with Liam what felt like hundreds of times. But there was an _itch_ under his skin, the buzzing in the back of his head growing stronger, leaving him antsy and wanting to jump out of his own skin. He could feel his fingers twitching when Liam reached out to tilt his chin up.

“Zayn,” Liam chided firmly, and Zayn closed his eyes at the feelings coursing through his system. He couldn’t blame them on anyone else this time, though. “What’s wrong? I know there’s something, yeah? You’re twitching and I can tell you’re nervous, and I want to help in any way you’ll let me, but I need you to tell me.”

Zayn huffed out a forced laugh and tried to break out of the grip Liam had on his chin. He was tired, just wanted to cuddle and try and relax, and the questioning was too much. “You can’t help with this, alright? Not with this.” He struggled to get up until Liam realised and released him, and then he was leaping up off the couch and stumbling towards the door. He couldn’t be here anymore, surrounded by Liam when he needed to be put under. He heard Liam get up, felt a pulse of understanding in the air, and then there was a gentle hand on his shoulder, spinning Zayn back around to face him and walk him slowly back until he was pressed up against the hallway wall.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Liam whispered, and the explosions coming from the TV made it almost impossible to hear, “but I want to help. I know you, yeah? I know that you’ll keep pushing it all down until you can’t handle it anymore, and then you’ll snap and then you won’t talk to me for three days. I just want to stop you from having to feel that.”

Zayn let himself grip Liam’s shirt and pulled him closer, the only change in Liam’s demeanour the slight dilating of his pupils as Zayn shook his head.

“Zayn,” Liam’s voice was firm now, his hand leaving Zayn’s shoulder to land softly against the wall next to Zayn’s head, “tell me, please. I want to fix this, you haven’t been yourself the last few days and I just – please, tell me.”

Zayn was failing, was two seconds away from just telling Liam everything, and then Liam’s lips ghosted across his temple -

“Sex is the only thing that gets me out of my head.” Well. That was a _spectacular_ fail. Zayn felt his eyes widen in horror as he looked at Liam, but Liam’s face wasn’t giving anything away. Zayn couldn’t stop himself now. He was already exhausted, mentally and physically, and he didn’t have the energy to fight it anymore. “There’s always just _too much _in my head Liam, I need – I need to _dominated_ sometimes, I need someone who’s rough and gentle at the same time, someone who’ll pull my hair and spank me and fuck my throat, but also stroke my face and kiss me and tell me how _good_ I am. I need to be taken apart until the only thing I can comprehend is how good everything feels, okay?” he pushed lightly at Liam’s chest, but the movement hardly swayed him. He could feel the heat in his cheeks and wondered if Liam could feel it even though he’d moved back slightly. “And I can’t just sleep with _anyone_ Liam, that kind of – it just takes an endless amount of trust and I – is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?” Zayn’s panting by the time he’s finished.

His heart was beating wildly, his chest rising and falling rapidly, brushing against Liam’s with every quick breath, and he flinched slightly when Liam’s fingers suddenly traced gently over his heated cheek. The second he settled into the touch, they locked eyes and Zayn had to stop himself from leaning forward to latch his lips onto Liam’s neck. He held his breath when Liam’s face transformed into something Zayn wouldn’t dare to call awe, but it was soft when he spoke.

“I know what you need. Thank you for telling me,” Liam murmured, his tone one of slow realisation as his eyes searched Zayn’s face. He nuzzled into Liam palm when his fingers uncurled to cup his cheek, his thumb stroking carefully across his cheekbone. “How long’s it been?”

“Too long.” Zayn didn’t care anymore that this fragile moment could potentially ruin their friendship, or that he was too in love with Liam to be able to separate it all.

Liam hummed. “I need you to be honest with me, okay?” Zayn felt Liam’s fingers tighten slightly in his hair and couldn’t help the small whine that left his throat as he nodded. “Have you ever thought about me, like this?” Zayn nodded again, quick enough to maybe seem too desperate, and he knew he was at least half hard when Liam groaned quietly. “I want to – ,” Liam seemed to need a minute to collect his thoughts, and Zayn was grateful as he clutched at Liam’s shirt, “I want to take care of you, like – like this. Whenever you need it Zayn, it doesn’t need to affect _us_, I just – I can see how it affects you, and _God_. I want that, this, with you.”

“You’d want to do that? For me? With me?” Zayn had no idea how the fuck they’d ended up here, but he’d take whatever he could get from the stunning man in front of him. He’d waited long enough.

“It’d be an absolute honour,” Liam breathed out, his lips moving closer to Zayn’s with every second, “and we need to talk about a lot of things first.” Zayn was shaking his head before Liam finished his sentence, but Liam kept talking, his expression slightly amused now. “Zayn, babe, I’ve done this kind of thing before. We need to talk about our limits, hard reds – is the traffic light system okay?”

There was a quick curl of jealously that swirled through him at the thought of Liam doing this with someone else, anyone else. It was a testament to how far gone Zayn felt already though, with Liam so close, that he could only manage to gasp out a yes. “But not tonight, _please_. I just – I don’t need everything tonight, but I’m impatient Leeyum, I’ve waited long enough. Please.”

Zayn squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his breath catching in his throat as Liam pressed against him until he could feel that they were completely flush. He exhaled shakily when one of Liam’s hands touched his hip and slid up slowly to settle at his waist, the other brushing his cheek softly before it tangled gently in his hair. He was too close, always too close, but Zayn’s control was slipping with every brush of Liam’s fingers, every whispered promise that left his mouth, and it was easy to ignore the voice in the back of his head that told him this would end in disaster. The buzzing around his brain had already started to fade, and he knew that Liam would look after it, knew it from the way he _knew _Liam, rough and soft all at once. He watched as Liam’s tongue flicked out over his bottom lip, and then it hit him so strongly that he keened.

Lust, want, and possessiveness wrapped around him, and a deep seated feeling of _care_ and _concern _followed in a way that was comforting, not suffocating.

Fuck. Liam _actually wanted _him. And not just wanted him, but was willing to give him he craved, what he _needed_.

Zayn shifted slightly to brush their noses together, groaning when Liam gripped his hair tight to stop him from moving. He could feel the hard line of Liam’s cock where it was suddenly pressed against his hip, and he swallowed the moan threatening to break free.

“Zayn, love, if we do this now,” Liam seemed to pause and take a moment to just rest their foreheads together, and Zayn let his fingers slip under Liam’s shirt to greedily travel over his skin, “fuck Zayn, if we do anything now, you need to promise me that we’ll have a proper conversation in the morning, okay? We need to do this right, we have to. I’ll _never_ hurt you, never do wrong by you, yeah? God, promise me Zayn.”

“I promise, fuck I promise, tomorrow, now _please_.” Zayn knew he was begging, but he was so hard in his jeans now that it hurt.

Liam pulled back slightly and cupped Zayn’s face in both of his hands. “Do you trust me?”

“More than anything. More than anyone,” Zayn replied honestly, and he realised with a start that it was absolutely the truth_._

And then Liam’s lips were finally pressed against his, and Zayn let himself sob for a breath. The kiss was gentle, Liam’s lips softer than Zayn had ever thought they would be, and he wrapped his arms around Liam’s neck to pull him even further into his body. It was chaste and cautious as Liam caught Zayn’s lower lip between his, sucking lightly before he pulled back.

Zayn chased his lips, tried to bring his head back with the hands around his neck, but Liam just changed course and started trailing soft kisses up his throat. Zayn sighed, grinding forward slightly when one of Liam’s hands threaded back into his hair, tugging it and baring Zayn’s skin for him to mark, gentle lips and harsh teeth. The contrast made Zayn’s head spin.

“Tell me what you’ve thought about,” Liam whispered when he reached Zayn’s ear, tugging at the lobe with his teeth in a way that shot down Zayn’s spine, “and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Zayn arched away from the wall with a groan. “Thought about this, about you fucking me against a wall. You’re so strong Li, know you could hold me up without even trying,” he gasped out, startled at the strangled noise Liam made before he was grabbing both of Zayn’s hands from around his neck, “thought about you marking me up, leaving bruises on me that I’d have for days.” He tried to undo Liam’s shirt, but a bolt of heat ran through his whole body when he realised he couldn’t, that Liam’s grip around his wrists was so he could manoeuvre them behind Zayn’s back. “Fuck Li, _please_.”

“What else?” Liam asked almost conversationally, but Zayn could hear the strain in the words, feel his cock twitch when Liam gathered his wrists in one hand, holding them tightly behind him against the small of his own back. Zayn struggled slightly to pull his hands free, moaning long and loud when he realised he couldn’t. He turned his face into Liam’s palm as his free hand came up to cup his face, sucking his thumb into his mouth with a hum. He heard Liam curse under his breath as he ground forward, his movements seeming more desperate now.

“Thought about you tying me to the bed,” Zayn groaned, circling his hips against Liam’s, “straddling my chest and fucking my face, makin’ me take it, stroking my hair and telling me how well I’m doin’.” Zayn could hear his accent getting thicker the further he fell, his voice a slow drawl now as Liam pinned his hands above his head, squeezing harshly before he let go.

“Keep them there, love,” Liam murmured, running his fingers lightly down Zayn’s arms as he shivered. Liam’s eyes were dark, a flush high on his cheeks, and Zayn surged forward to kiss him.

He barely registered Liam slamming him back into the wall as he slid his tongue past Liam’s lips, moaning as he heard and felt Liam undoing both of their jeans, yanking them down past Zayn’s knees and pulling down his own. Zayn’s head was slightly fuzzy, not enough for him to go under but just enough that everywhere they touched felt _breath-taking._ Liam dominated the kiss, his fingers holding Zayn’s jaw and pressing just enough for his mouth to drop open, fucking his tongue into Zayn’s mouth as his hips started a steady rhythm, hot and hard and demanding, the pressure and friction against Zayn’s prick almost landing on the side of too much. He nipped at Liam’s lip, pulling away slightly to twist his head and pant, desperate to get air into his lungs as Liam’s cock slid against his, precome making the slide _perfect_ now.

“Fuck, Liam please, oh _God_, I – _fuck_,” Zayn breathed out, and he realised too late that he’d let his hand drop to tangle in Liam’s hair where he was sucking marks into Zayn’s skin.

He froze as soon as he realised, noticed Liam stop too, before he was pulling back and taking Zayn’s hand in his. No, fuck, this was always where he got told he wasn’t enough, that he got punished. He couldn’t help that he got so overwhelmed sometimes, and Liam was destroying him just from the fact that this was _Liam,_ the love of Zayn’s life that was about to make him come before he’d even gotten undressed. Zayn closed his eyes, a deep sense of shame starting to push its way through, but Liam simply trailed teasing fingers up his arm and pushed it back up above his head.

“Baby,” Liam reprimanded him gently, but Zayn could only focus on the pet name. _Baby_. He knew Liam would be good for him, but he hadn’t imagined he’d be so _perfect_, be exactly what he needed, and they hadn’t even really done anything yet. “Baby, are you still with me?”

Zayn nodded, still breathing harshly, but he yelped when Liam’s palm came down harshly on the outside of his thigh.

“Use your words. Don’t you want to be good for me?” Liam breathed in his ear, grinding against him slowly just as his hand gripped Zayn’s thigh tight enough to send prickles of heat through his body, digging his short nails into the soft skin enough to make Zayn dizzy.

Fuck. Zayn choked out a sob, keeping his hands up high as he wrapped his leg around Liam, strong fingers hiking it up higher to get a better angle to thrust against him. “Yes, _please_, wanna be good, ’m sorry, I didn’t _mean_ it Leeyum, _please_.” He realised he was getting flustered when Liam pulled back, concern in his eyes, and cupped his face again, pushing a strand of hair off his forehead with so much love in his eyes that Zayn instantly felt soothed.

“Baby, you’re okay, yeah? I’m here, I’ve got you, you’re being so good darling,” Liam smoothed more hair back from his eyes, pressing kisses all over his face as he pushed him back into the wall. Zayn’s body warmed from the praise; he was good, he was doing well, Liam still wanted this.

“I’m being good?”

Liam nodded, kissing Zayn quick and dirty, a flick of his tongue followed by a grind of his hips and a tug at his hair that had Zayn gasping. “So good, baby. Want you to come for me, okay? Can’t wait to see how good you look, coming apart for me.”

Zayn hadn’t realised how much he’d needed this, but the way that he was responding to the simplest of touches from Liam was proof enough. He’d dreamt about this enough that it didn’t quite seem real, and when Liam’s hand trailed down his stomach to wrap around where he was hard and leaking, his hips snapped forward as a whimper fell from his lips. Liam took advantage of it, kissing him deeply as he tilted Zayn’s head with the grip on his hair. Zayn could feel himself starting to let go, his mind going blank, his arms getting sore in the most beautiful way where they were still stretched above his head.

“Li, I – oh, _oh_, D – Liam, please,” Zayn sobbed, his hips moving in time with the steady rhythm that Liam had started with his hand. His strokes were long and sure, his thumb sweeping over the head of Zayn’s cock on every slide, gathering the precum beading there to ease the way. Zayn could feel the callouses on his palm as it twisted around the tip before Liam shifted to take both of them in his hand, just large enough to wrap perfectly around as he sped up his strokes.

Zayn was too far gone for words now. Everything falling from his mouth was Liam’s name, groans and whines seeming to spur Liam on as he grunted against Zayn’s neck.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you for?” Liam panted, taking his mouth in a quick kiss with no finesse as he pushed them both closer to the edge. “You’re so _fucking_ beautiful Zayn, so stunning in everything you do, can’t believe I get to see you like this.” Zayn had gone plaint as the pleasure built at the base of his spine, Liam’s words and clenching fingers at the base of his skull making it hard to breathe. “Dreamt about you for years darling, so beautiful – _fuck _– can’t believe you’re even more gorgeous than I imagined. So proud of you, my beautiful boy, letting me see you like this. C’mon Zayn, want you to come for me. You can touch me.”

Zayn immediately let his hands fall with a cry of relief, tangling his fingers in Liam’s hair as his legs shook, one arm wrapping around Liam’s shoulders to hold himself up. “I’m so _close_, please, oh _Daddy.”_ Zayn wasn’t in the right frame of mind to fully understand what he’d done, but Liam’s stroking only faltered for a moment before his hand gripped their cocks tighter still, stripping them quickly as he groaned Zayn’s name.

“_Fuck_ you’re perfect, come on baby, come for Daddy.”

And Zayn was suddenly coming hard, a cry leaving his lips as he came on Liam’s hand and onto his stomach. He could feel the pleasure rolling through him in seemingly never ending waves as Liam kept up his pace before he slumped back against the wall, mind pleasantly empty. He watched through hooded eyes just as Liam came with a sharp groan, his movements slowing as Zayn moaned weakly at the wet warmth now covering his spent cock. He dropped his leg, reached up, wrapped both arms around Liam’s neck, and pulled him down into a languid kiss. Liam’s hands came up to settle on his waist as they kissed softly, both panting slightly as they came down. Zayn didn’t even care that one of Liam’s hands was sticky on his skin.

“Liam,” he murmured, burying his head in the man’s neck to breathe in his cologne.

“Baby, you were brilliant,” Liam breathed, running his hands down Zayn’s sides and ghosting over his arse. Zayn shivered under his hands, but when Liam gripped the back of his thighs and tapped with his fingers, Zayn held on tight. “So beautiful love, so, so good for me. Perfect,” Liam finished as he hoisted Zayn up into his arms, forcing Zayn to wrap his legs around his waist.

Zayn sighed happily and let his eyes drift closed as he leant his head against Liam’s shoulder. He’d been good. He hummed when Liam carefully placed him on his bed and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll be so quick you won’t even notice.” Liam’s voice was soft and seemed far away, so Zayn hummed a happy noise and burrowed into Liam’s duvet. 

He’d just started to drift off when Liam came back, wiping Zayn down with a warm wet cloth and sitting him up slightly to take sips of water and eat some grapes. Zayn watched Liam as he moved around his room, setting Zayn’s phone and the bottle of water on the bedside table. As soon as he got into bed, Zayn rolled over, threw an arm around his waist, and finally let himself feel the bone deep satisfaction settling within him. He felt a strong arm wrap around his back and pull him closer until their were tangled, felt lips on his forehead, and then fingertips tracing delicate patterns on his back. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled into Liam’s chest, snuggling closer when he felt Liam chuckle. 

“Anytime. You never need to thank me for the privilege. But we have to have a serious talk about this in the morning, yeah?”

Zayn sighed sleepily, his body feeling heavy as he succumbed to sleep. “I promise.” His voice was a low whisper, and just as he felt Liam’s lips in his hair, he fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn gets more than he bargained for.

_“Li, Liam, please I -.” Zayn cut himself off with cry, burying his face in the pillow as a harsh grip pulled his hips further away from the bed. _

_His back arched, a perfect curve, Liam’s teeth nipping at the skin of his arse as Zayn trembled. The low buzz of the vibrator seemed deafening as Liam slowly pressed it into him, and Zayn felt a blinding hot pleasure when Liam angled it to hit his prostate. He sobbed, hands clenching in the sheets as Liam kissed up his spine to suck bruises into his neck._

_“One more baby, one more and then I’ll fuck you.” Liam’s voice sounded somehow fuzzy around the edges as the toy seemed to grow louder. _

_Zayn couldn’t focus on anything anymore as everything started to slip away, the incessant buzzing somehow bleeding into every possible space. He tried to hang on to the pleasure as he shifted his hips down, but it was all gone suddenly - _

Zayn woke with a gasp, hard and leaking in his pants, the duvet pushed to the bottom of the bed with Liam’s arms around him to keep him warm. He shifted slightly, pressing back into Liam’s chest with a sleepy hum when he realised that the buzzing hadn’t stopped, and the whole room was lit up with a dull white. 

His phone was ringing. At 3:17am. That only ever meant one thing.

Zayn twisted slowly, sliding out from Liam’s grip with his tongue caught between his teeth as he concentrated. There was no way to explain any of it to Liam if he woke up, so with careful movements, his feet touched the floor as he grabbed his phone just as it went to voicemail. He sat gingerly on the edge and chewed lightly on his thumb nail as he thought; there was only one logical option, and it wasn’t the one he wanted.

He reached out and gently stroked Liam’s cheek as he felt a wide grin take over his face. It’d been real. He’d told Liam what he needed, Liam had said he wanted him, and then - Zayn huffed put a breath when the other man snuffled into his pillow, replacing the warmth that Zayn had taken with him by wrapping his arms around the soft lump. Zayn leaned forward to kiss Liam’s cheek.

His phone rang again.

Zayn swore under his breath, almost throwing his phone across the room in surprise. He juggled it awkwardly for a few seconds before carefully standing up and fleeing the room. He tiptoed past Niall’s closed door, completely avoiding Harry’s at the other end of the hallway, and grabbed the cigarettes he always left at their flat. He rolled his eyes when he noticed some were missing, but he knew Harry would never own up to it. He stepped quickly out onto the balcony, gently shut the door behind him, lit a cigarette, and finally answered his fucking phone.

“‘lo?”

“_Took you long enough, mate._” Paul’s voice was exasperated but fond, and Zayn took half a second to wonder why everyone seemed to have that tone when they spoke to him.

Zayn inhaled deeply, watching the cigarette grow bright orange as he leant against the railing. “I was sleeping, you dick. It’s fuckin’ arse o’clock.”

_“Crime doesn’t sleep, Nightwing.”_

He groaned, flicking the ash from the tip as his head dropped forward. “I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

He heard Paul’s indignant noise clear as a bell. _“You love Nightwing, you little shit. Was one of the first things you told me, you know.”_

Zayn did know, had heard the story enough times that he went through phases of wanting Paul to tell it 10 times a day, or setting fire to his desk with a click of his fingers at the mere mention. 

He could still easily remember the day he met Paul, even without the constant reminders, because it was somehow one of the earliest memories he had. He’d been 8, sitting on his couch watching cartoons and glancing down at the floor every so often at the puzzle that sat there. His head had been resting in his cupped hand, elbow on the arm of the couch as the fingers on his right hand undulated and twisted, puzzle pieces flitting through the air to slot into place on the carpet underneath his feet. 

He remembered being able to hear his parents in the kitchen, speaking in hushed tones so he couldn’t eavesdrop, but he understood the fear, confusion, and hopelessness that pounded through the air. It had translated straight through to him, burrowed itself into his body and stubbornly set up camp. He’d just slotted the last piece into place and spared a glance down, a small smile on his face, when he’d heard the clearing of a throat from the doorway. 

His first impression of Paul had been...intimidating, to say the least. Paul had been dressed in a suit, one of the only times Zayn could remember seeing him in one, and he’d been a tall, hulking presence in the doorframe. He’d sat down on the floor instead of the couch though as Zayn had watched him curiously, and gently questioned Zayn about the puzzle he’d just finished; a comic book scene with Batman and Nightwing. Eventually Paul’s careful questioning had led to Zayn’s powers; his already known telekinesis and nearly discovered, as of that day, ability to create and control fire. It’d taken Paul even longer to figure out Zayn’s emphatic tie to the world, and his parents had watched cautiously from the couch after Zayn had slid down to join Paul on the floor. 

Paul had called him Nightwing ever since. 

Zayn was suddenly snapped back to the present by a persistent voice.

_“ - and honestly, if you would just fucking listen for once.”_

“I am listening!” Zayn lied through his teeth, taking another quick drag and letting the cigarette hover in the air. “But just in case I wasn’t, can you repeat everything you just said?”

There was a loud sigh. _“Seriously, kid. I’m coming to get you, we have to go. You’re on your own tonight though, Sam’s being watched.”_

Zayn stood up straighter at that. It wasn’t necessarily a surprise; Sam had been involved in a few more public incidents than Zayn had recently, and they’d almost been caught twice. “Do they know who they are? What am I in for?”

_“Nah, we’re pretty sure their identity is still a secret at this stage. We’re keeping a close eye on it. You know how the police get with this shit.”_

Zayn made a noise of agreement as he put out his cigarette. “Then it’ll be public outcry, like we’re vigilantes or some shit.”

There was a pause, and then - _“I mean, we kind of are.”_

“Shut up, Paul.”

A loud chuckle. _“Anyway, Sam’s alright, just laying low. It seems to be just a standard B&E, rich place over on Anderson Place, but I’ve picked up reports of weapons.”_

“Guns?”

_“Bad ones. Cops are ignoring it.”_

Zayn grunted as he moved quietly back inside. “Why?”

_“It’s the old commissioner’s place.” _

Well that threw a spanner in the works. The old commissioner, a kind man who’d wanted to work with his kind rather than against. Zayn was surprised he hadn’t been murdered already. 

“I’ll meet you there.”

_“No need mate. I’m picking you up.”_

Zayn stopped abruptly from where he was shoving his feet into his shoes, thinking of his next words carefully. “I’m not at home.”

_“What, you think I don’t know where you are? I’m downstairs, been watching you smoke and everything. It’s bad for you, you know.”_

He rolled his eyes, ducking quickly back down to Liam’s bedroom to poke his head in through the door. He was still sleeping soundly, and Zayn felt a pang in his chest at having to leave. 

“That’s creepy, yeah?”

_“Just get down here, I’ve already got your back up suit.”_

Zayn whispered his goodbye, hung up the phone, and after one final longing look at Liam, walked out the front door. He’d never be able to say goodbye without waking him up, and he didn’t have time to deal with the repercussions. He slid into the passenger side as soon as he got down to the street, and Paul took off so fast he drifted slightly on the asphalt.

“Alright, I’m not exactly sure what you’re getting yourself into, but it doesn’t sound good,” Paul started, swearing and slamming his hand down on the horn when an SUV cut them off. Zayn twisted around to the back seat, searching for the familiar material, a noise of triumph leaving his lips when it slid across his fingertips. He’d taken his shirt off and started on his belt when Paul continued. “Something feels off about this one, but I’m not sure what it is. Just be careful, alright?”

Zayn shot him a curious look as he floundered slightly in his seat, down to his pants now, to try and pull the surprisingly stretchy material up his legs, the bulging armoured sections making him squirm. Paul had been around for long enough to know when a situation seemed sticky, seemed to have a sixth sense that had nothing to do with his super strength or seemingly ridiculous agility. Besides, Zayn was always careful; even though he was powerful, he didn’t have any physical abilities like the other few people he knew. It was evident in the solid, bulletproof material woven into suit, the extra precautions the technicians in the lab had to take when developing anything new for him. He reminded Paul as he slipped his arms through the sleeves, flexing his fingers so the gloved ends knitted closer to his skin.

Paul groaned, spinning the steering wheel as he fishtailed around a corner. “I know that you’re always careful, but there’s just something about this that has me worried.”

“You haven’t even been to the scene yet,” Zayn shot back, tongue poking out slightly in concentration as he managed to hook the top of the suit together at the back, “and if you were _that_ worried, you would’ve pulled Anna in or summat to help.”

“Just promise me you’ll be fine at daybreak, Nightwing.” Paul’s voice was firm as he slowed down, parking the car and turning off the headlights so he could swing around at Zayn, eyebrows raised and a stern expression on his face.

“What’s with all the fuckin’ promises today?” Zayn grumbled, sitting forward in his seat as he pressed the small _Z_ on the hook.

The back of his suit clicked together, starting at the base of his spine and travelling quickly up to the nape of his neck. He twisted in his seat when it was done, rolling his head so the high neckline settled more comfortably against his skin. He didn’t wear this suit as often, his primary still back at his flat and hidden in his cupboard behind a secret panel.

A large hand suddenly appeared in front of his face, a black eye mask waving in front of his eyes. “What promises? That’s the only one, and a pretty fucking important one.”

Zayn sighed with a quick roll of his eyes as he slid the mask into place, blinking rapidly as it moulded to his face. He let Liam’s face flit quickly across his mind before he pushed it out again. Too distracting. “I promise. Which house is it?”

“Three doors down on the left. My bet is that they’ll know the cops aren’t coming, so they won’t really be on guard,” Paul explained, handing Zayn an earpiece that he obediently put in. “I’ll be a couple of blocks away, but as soon as anything seems wrong, let me fucking know straight away.”

“I always do!” Zayn protested, annoyance building with every word Paul spoke. “What, suddenly you can’t trust me with a simple breaking and entering?”

Paul let out a heavy sigh, the sound loud in the enclosed space, and Zayn felt the frustration and tense worry pouring off of him. “I just worry about you, yeah? We don’t have time for this, c’mon, out you go.”

Zayn felt his face soften slightly as he opened the door, but just as he stepped out of the car, Paul called him back.

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t want me to call you Nightwing, you really need a new suit, mate.”

He wasn’t wrong. His suit had been designed by one of Paul’s friends the first time Zayn had gone out on a job, and he’d taken Paul’s nickname a bit too far. It was black, fitted, pretty standard for the base, but instead of Nightwing’s downward pointed blue arrow on his chest, Zayn had a dark yellow, almost sideways, Z. The top line started at the elbow of his left arm, travelling up to a point at his shoulder and then cutting diagonally down across his chest. It jolted back up to end at his opposite shoulder, an off centre and abstract version of Nightwing’s iconic suit. Zayn loved it, loved the fact that it only looked like a Z from certain angles or specific circumstances. None of the public seemed to have made any kind of connection, the design different and confusing enough to make sure, but it had earnt him the name ‘Lightning’ by the press; just as fast, and twice as dangerous. Zayn always scoffed at it, knew he could change it all with a new suit, but he secretly loved the Nightwing connection. It reminded him that even though there were people who hated him, people that hated what he did, there were still others out there that relied on him and that needed him. It reminded him of the comics he’d read under his duvet with a torch when he was a kid, the ones that he had on his shelves at his flat. It helped him feel like he made a _difference_.

“Nah, you’d just come up with something equally annoying,” Zayn laughed, grinning when Paul chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah. Good luck, Nightwing.”

“Thanks, Alfred.”

He shut the car door quietly, cutting off the snicker he heard as he watched Paul slowly drive the way he came, headlights still off. He watched until he couldn’t see the dark shape anymore and then darted down the street through the shadows. He slipped into the yard of the house next door to the Slater’s property, slinking along the hedge that ran between the two properties. The thick shrub parted for him with a brief thought, and even though his shield was down, he was keeping it on high alert to snap back up as soon as he needed it. He squeezed through the small gap and gaped at the old mansion that came into view on the other side.

_“Are you in yet?”_

Zayn swore softly when Paul’s voice crackled through the earpiece, walking forward as his fingers twirled behind his back to close the hedge back up. “I’m in the yard, you dick,” Zayn hissed, crouching down to run up to the side of the house, “and you just scared the shit out of me. I’m just about to go in.”

_“Good. Can you feel anything?”_

It wasn’t rare for Zayn for feel nothing until he was physically close to someone or could at least see them. He couldn’t feel anything at the moment, nothing jumping out at him, but just as he was about to pull back to concentrate on getting through the bottom window, he frowned and stood. There _was_ something, something hidden and - his frown deepened, eyebrows knitted together in concentration, but when he pushed further to find it, it’d suddenly vanished. 

He made a small noise in the back of his throat, staring through the window to unlock it from the inside, watching as the key turned on its own. “No, but you’re right. Something’s wrong, but I don’t know what it is,” he murmured as the window opened slowly. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he froze from where he was trying to climb inside. “Paul. Someone’s watching me, somewhere.”

He heard the older man swear. _“Where are you? Can you see anything?”_

“I can’t see anything, but I’m looking into the house, not back out at the lawn.” Zayn kept his voice low as he shifted, hoisting one leg up and then the other to climb in. As soon as he was inside, he shut and locked the window behind him, looking out over the lawn with careful eyes. There was a heaviness hanging over him, something that he couldn’t properly name or identify. It made something cold shift through him, and he shivered through the feeling as he stared out at the darkness. “I’ve just gotten inside, but I still can’t see anything. I _know_ there was someone, though.” 

_“Get in and get out, Zayn. I don’t fucking like this, alright? I’m sending Anna just in case.” _

Zayn rolled his eyes as he moved slowly through the house, running his gloved hands over the golden frames holding million dollar artworks and admiring the brush strokes. He could hear faint voices at the end of the hall, and then a shot of terror sliced through him like a knife. He gasped and threw up his shield as Paul swore again over the comms.

_“Zayn, what’s going on?”_

“You know, you never usually ask this many questions,” Zayn responded dryly as he moved carefully down the hall. “Don’t trust me anymore or something? Don’t send Anna in. I don’t need the back-up; it was just an awful emotion hangin’ around. Probably to be expected from someone being _held hostage_. Threw my shield up, but it hit me first. ‘M fine, for fucks sake.”

_“Fine. You get right back on here the second you’re done, yeah?”_

Zayn murmured his agreement, disgruntled as it was, as the voices got louder. He could hear a gleeful, brash man, a slightly softer spoken man, and muffled noises coming from through the wooden double doors. He sidled up to the door, pressed himself against it, took a deep breath, and slowly pushed forward to make a small crack for him to peer through. Guns were the first thing he saw, and his eyes flitted over the men as quickly as possible.

Two AR-15s. Loaded. One dangling from a tall man’s hand where he was leaning against a bookcase, the other held up by a short man who was speaking. A pistol tucked into a holster, a large knife on a belt. Wearing all black, but not professionals. Hired goons given weapons they’d never used before. Tall, brown hair, scar on his hand. Short, black hair, tattooed fingers. Obvious features that would stand out in a police lineup. Poor choices for this type of job. 

An older man, grey hair, tied to a chair in the middle of the room. White cloth stuffed in his mouth, tied in a knot behind his head. Wide frantic eyes. Wearing pyjamas and only one sock, obviously pulled out of bed. Thick rope wrapped in lazy patterns to bind him. No finesse, could probably break out if he was younger and stronger. Bleeding cut on his forehead. Wife nowhere to be seen. 

He surveyed the room quickly, trying to figure out the best way to approach. The men weren’t facing the door, but side on so they’d see him if he came through. He’d have to do it anyway, could easily send the weapons flying through the room before he came in. He dropped his shield a fraction to see what was happening. 

The strongest was fear, but oddly enough it was coming from all three men. In all the times Zayn had done this, all the men he’d helped put away, it made perfect sense that the people who overflowed fear and panic into the room were the victims. Sometimes he could sense it on the bad guys too, but he always had to push a little deeper. It was always something repressed, buried and hidden under false confidence, but it was never the primary; it wouldn’t make sense.

And it didn’t. It was clear they were amateurs, stock standard weapons and a demeanour making it clear, but this seemed like too big of a job to leave in the hands of people who didn’t know exactly what they were doing. Zayn frowned, searching harder for more emotions to work off, but panic and terror seemed to be the underlying factors. It could just be a standard B&E, but it was a big target for newbies.

Shaking himself slightly, he flicked his wrist, a large statue in the far corner of the room toppled over, and when the two men spun to see the cause of the ruckus, Zayn silently slid through the gap in the doors. He watched as the tall man wandered over to see what happened, the shorter man still relaxed and calm, and while Zayn could feel the fear increasing, their actions didn’t add up.

“There’s nothing here, maybe it just fell,” the man shrugged, spinning back around just as Zayn hid himself behind a desk.

He heard a strangled scoff, a bizarre noise in the stillness of the room, and then a raspy voice. “Yeah alright, a fucking marble statue just fell over on its own. You’re a wanker. Be on guard. One of them is probably already here, do a lap.”

Zayn let his shield fall even further, but when he couldn’t pick up anything new, he threw it up and skittered away from the heavy footsteps slowly heading towards him. He slotted himself between two bookcases and stood. Well, now or never, he supposed.

He pushed out an overwhelming feeling of calm, hoping to relax them enough that they wouldn’t be ready for him. He concentrated, grimacing slightly when he realised it wasn’t having any effect on the two men, just the old commissioner, whose whole body untensed against the hard chair. Okay, maybe a new approach. From where he was hidden in the shadows, he let his eyes fall on the short man and sent him a wave of sadness so intense that it’d have him on the floor in seconds.

Nothing happened.

Zayn could feel his heart beating rapidly, his breathing become shallower by the second. Fuck, _fuck._ He never usually needed to resort to violence or combat of any kind, his powers enough to incapacitate someone enough that he could grab their weapon with a single thought. He wasn’t really sure how to do this, or why his powers weren’t working. He startled when he heard Paul back in his ear, drawing him back from the panic attack he was an inch away from.

_“Do not even think about answering me, but you need to calm down. Anna’s there, and I’m not gonna send her in, but she can see you. Zayn, Nightwing, c’mon mate, it’s gonna be alright. You’ve got this. Deep breaths.”_

He tried to calm his breathing, taking in a lungful of air as quietly as possible, but there was still an underlying sense of panic. He squeezed his eyes shut, strengthened his shield, and let himself think of Liam. Liam, holding his face and kissing him gently, sleeping soundly sprawled out over the bed, pulling his hair – ah, too far. He focused on Liam’s face, his expressive brown eyes and wide smile, and when he pushed out a breath and opened his eyes, he locked onto a different set of brown eyes right in front of him filled with glee and hesitation in equal measure. Tall man.

Fuck.

Zayn’s instincts kicked in, a swift clench of his fist ripping the gun from the man’s grasp just as he yelled out, a twist of his wrist breaking it clean down the middle to clatter onto the floor, and a slight push sending the man flying across the room to slam into the opposite wall. He darted out of the small space and ducked behind the desk again just as bullets flew at him, but he needed to move quickly.

“Sending the big guns, huh?” There was manic laughter, and another spray of bullets. Zayn winced, trying desperately to send out any emotions he could to halt everything, but they seemed to bounce back to him. “The _famous _Lightning, master of the mind, they call you,” the man called out, and Zayn took a second to gather himself when the man continued, “so lucky to be in your _presence_.” The word was spat out just as Zayn leapt up from when he was crouched, bullets flying through the air straight towards him.

A reflex reaction had him throwing his hand to stop the danger, catching all but one in the air and letting them clatter to the floor, the lone bullet too quick to stop as it nicked his arm, right where his suit was most vulnerable. Zayn hissed through his teeth as a quick pain shot through him. A small hand gesture had all of the books behind him flying off the shelves and hurtling towards the smaller man, knocking him clean off his feet and giving Zayn the chance to pull the gun to him with a quick movement. He let it hover, a slice of his hand through the air cutting it in half as it fell to join the bullets on the floor, a harsh breath escaping him as the room fell back into silence.

He didn’t have time to waste now. A series of quick actions had the ties from the curtains slipping through the air to wrap around both men’s wrists and ankles, pushing them both to a pillar and securing them to it.

“You’re _fucked_, you know!”

Zayn rolled his eyes as the short man spoke before more ties came to shut them both up, stuffing into their mouths, wrapping around their heads and ending in an efficient knot with a graceful twirl of Zayn’s hand through the air. Now that they were finally dealt with, Zayn turned his attention to Slater, still incapacitated but calm now. Zayn sent him another wave of relief just in case and turned his attention to Paul.

“Hey Alfred, I’m all done. Two suspects, both bound and gagged, freeing Slater now,” Zayn said, distracted as he worked on the knots at Slater’s hands. He could see them untying in his mind, the rope slipping through the gaps, and he watched as it translated across in real time.

_“Good work. Anna said you got hurt, is it bad?”_

Zayn scoffed, reaching up to untie the gag with his hands, his mind still preoccupied with the intricate knots around the man’s body. “Nah, just a graze from a stray bullet. ‘M alright, she’ll be able to fix me just by looking at me, probably.”

_“Alright. We’ll debrief properly when I come get you. How was it overall?”_

“Honestly, odd. Somethin’ wasn’t right. Don’t wanna talk about it here though,” Zayn finished just as the last knot came undone, the dirty material gliding down to the floor along with the rope. “Sir? You’re free now, are you alright? Here, stand up.”

He darted around to the front of the chair and gently grabbed Slater’s elbow to help him get his footing, but the man stayed seated, happily looking at Zayn. Maybe he’d overdone it with the calm.

Slater’s voice was slightly airy when he spoke. “It’s a trap. You’re not safe here.”

Zayn froze and dropped his shield slightly to focus on the man in front of him. He was calm and relieved, fear still a slight undercurrent, but he seemed alright. “What do you mean, sir? Everything’s alright now, I’ve stopped them.”

“It’s not them you have to worry about, son.”

Zayn had a second to be confused, heard Paul’s frantic voice call his name, and then –

Pain.

Agonising pain travelling through his skull and ricocheting through his head. He was dizzy, almost throwing up, his ears ringing and his vision blurred, but he could hear someone screaming. He released too late that it was his own voice. He tried to latch on to something, _anything_ that he could in his mind, but he realised, half out of it, that he couldn’t. It was an _emotion_ making him feel like this, something that was somehow bleeding through his skin to fill every pore, all the way down into his bones. His heart was racing, he couldn’t breathe, and he had a brief terrifying realisation that he was going to die.

He couldn’t remember falling over or closing his eyes; everything was too _much_, and then suddenly there was a break, just enough for him to instinctively throw up his shield to his full strength. He could still feel it vibrating in the air as he curled up on the floor, tears running down his face as he hiccoughed sobs. Zayn heard Paul’s voice slowly coming back, increasing in volume as he yelled Zayn’s name over and over, but he didn’t have the energy to respond, let alone move somewhere safer.

His lungs were burning for some reason, and he took in deep, heaving breaths as he curled in on himself even more. He tried to blink open his eyes, but he was so tired, and everything was blurry. He was weak, too drained to really do anything, and then there was like a lone, dark figure standing a few feet away. He kept his shield up, focus purely on keeping it intact as he shivered through the aftershocks of the worst moment he’d ever experienced. He was panting loudly, but he still heard the quiet voice that cut through the air.

“Look at you now. London’s favourite antihero, the one they hate to love, reduced to a quivering mess on the ground. If only they could see you like this.” Zayn still couldn’t see properly, could only see the slim build as the man leant forward, bent at the waist, still keeping his distance as he kept talking. “I know all about you, you know. They think no one can beat you because you’re _too strong_, too _important,_ too…_dangerous, _right? _Lightning. _I could kill you right here, and no one would even know.”

Zayn’s hand twitched as he tried to speak, but his throat was raw from screaming. Paul’s voice was almost devastating in his ear, and Zayn managed a faint cough to let him know he was alive.

“Who are you?” Zayn’s voice sounded like he’d swallowed broken glass, and he finally felt _just_ enough energy rising in him to do something. As the man stepped forward, everything happened at once. Zayn clicked his fingers, a bright red ring of fire shot up around him to protect him, and Zayn could hear loud voices coming from down the hall as the man grinned. Zayn still couldn’t see enough to know who it was, but he was protected now, and he could hear Paul yelling.

“You’ll know soon enough, Zayn.”

All of the windows shattered just as the door flew open, the man vanishing along with the two bound men. Slater seemed unconscious on the floor. Zayn closed his eyes as the fire fell, and then Anna and Paul were falling to their knees beside him.

“Zayn, oh God.”

“Anna, just – for fucks sake Anna, here. No, don’t speak Nightwing, c’mon mate, _c’mon._”

Zayn felt the neck of suit being ripped by Paul’s hands, and then Anna’s small hand was pressing against the skin of his neck. He closed his eyes and let himself drift, let Anna’s warm, healing powers flow through his system and tend wounds he hadn’t even realised he had. He felt his skin knitting back together at his ribs, felt the scrape from the gunshot wound fade into nothing, and when he realised he was safe, let his shield drop.

“Zayn, Anna’s just going to take your mask off.”

Then hands were pressed to his temples, and he felt the throbbing in his head lift. It was too late though; he was too exhausted, just wanted to sleep. He let his body relax and let himself feel. Dread and worry, along with anger and hopelessness. He just needed to nap.

“Paul he’s slipping.”

Rough hands were shaking him. “Zayn, push through, c’mon, fight it mate. You can rest later, we need you awake, fuck – .”

“He knew my name, Paul. He called me Zayn.”

The panic spiked, Anna’s hands grew hot, and the last thing Zayn thought of was Liam before everything went black.

*****

Everything was mostly calm and relaxed when Zayn blinked his eyes open, flexing his fingers as he stretched. He could sense a soft feeling of concern entwined with affection, and when he squinted through the lights of the room, he could see through the window that it was daytime, still morning if he could read the sky right. He yawned, his limbs feeling stiff, and when he sat up and saw Paul watching him cautiously from a chair at the end of the bed, everything came flooding back.

“What the _fuck_ happened?” Zayn asked, and he could hear that his voice was incredulous even to his own ears.

Paul sighed, standing and moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “I was hoping you could answer that. Do you remember anything?”

Zayn swallowed, thanking Paul when he passed him a bottle of water. “Everything, I think. You were right when you said it felt off, but I couldn’t figure out why. I didn’t recognise the two wankers with guns, but they weren’t trained,” Zayn mused, stopping to chug half the bottle, “and something seemed wrong. My powers didn’t work on them, the emotions I sent out didn’t affect them at all. Had to use my telekinesis. Didn’t seem like a standard break in either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Slater’s a big target for that simple of a crime. I assumed it must’ve been politics related, but they were just sittin’ there watching him when I got there.”

Paul exhaled harshly. “A trap?”

“Think so,” Zayn grimaced, rolling his neck to ease the tightness there, “and the old man told me it was. Dunno how he knew. Oh, another thing. They were all scared; the fear was so strong throughout all three of them.”

“Even the bad guys?”

“Yeah, man. ‘S weird.”

Paul looked worried when he spoke, and Zayn felt the air shift with tension. “Alright. Now, the guy that attacked you. Zayn,” Paul stopped to clap him on the shoulder, and his eyes were serious, “I need to know everything you can remember about him.”

“Hardly anything.” Zayn’s voice was apologetic, but Paul looked as though he was expecting the answer. “I had no idea he was there, but he must’ve been there the whole time. I couldn’t feel him at all. He just snuck up on me.”

“Think he was the one watching you when you first got there?”

Zayn hadn’t considered it, but it made sense, and he told Paul as much. “I don’t know what he did to me, but I’ve never felt anything like it, Paul. It was an emotion, or a feeling somehow, because nothing physically touched me, but it _hurt._ I couldn’t even pinpoint what emotion it was,” Zayn finished angrily, frustrated with himself. It was his _job_ to know about and control the room, and he hadn’t been able to.

Paul let out a small chuckle. “Nightwing. I assume you weren’t _supposed_ to be able to figure it out,” he said as he squeezed Zayn’s shoulder. “We have to work on your shield though. Was it up or down?”

“Down. I was trying to get a read on Slater when it happened. By the time I managed to get it back up, it was too late.” Zayn picked at the threads on the sheets, gaze flicking to his phone when it vibrated. 9:58am. _Oh fuck_. “Liam! I have to go Paul; I need to go.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” Paul’s voice thundered through the room, and Zayn felt a spike of anger. “You’re in way too much danger. You don’t even know what the man _looks_ like Zayn, and he knows your fucking name.”

Annoyance combined with the anger coming off Paul, and Zayn was suddenly _pissed._ “You’re not the only person I promised something to Paul, and I actually fucking kept my promise to you, so I’m fucking leaving, and you can’t stop me,” Zayn bit out stubbornly, trying to untangle himself from the sheets before he gave up and they flew off him with a twist of his wrist.

“You almost _died_ Zayn, be fucking reasonable. Liam will understand.”

“I don’t want him to _have to understand,_ especially when he’s not even allowed to _know,”_ Zayn spat out, shaking his head and throwing his shield up as he looked for his shoes, “and can you please calm the fuck down? You’re making me antsy.”

Paul opened his mouth the retort, fury clear on his face, when Anna walked in and stopped in the doorway.

“Hi?” Her tone was hesitant as her gaze flickered back and forth, and Zayn watched as a chair back crumpled under Paul’s hand. It was easy to forget how strong he was.

“Anna, am I healthy? Fixed? Good to go?” Zayn asked, stubbornly ignoring Paul’s gaze.

“I – yes, you’re fine now, probably better than before even.”

“Great,” Zayn replied, picking up his phone and shoving his feet into his shoes. “I’ll be off then.”

“Zayn, can you _please_ just listen to me?” Paul’s voice was softer now, more desperate, and Zayn paused. He dropped his shield slightly, felt a tumble of worry, horror, and love coming from Paul, and turned back to face him. “I – I need to know you’re safe, yeah? The only way I can do that is if you’re here.”

“You don’t keep Sam here, even though you said someone knows about them,” Zayn said quietly, “and you told me this wouldn’t interfere with my real life, Paul. I have uni assignments due, and exams coming up, and the man I love is probably close to a panic attack right now because he woke up without me and I’ve been ignoring his messages. I’m fine, Paul. They just caught me off guard. I promise I’ll be careful.” Zayn took a hesitant step towards him and felt relief flow through his system when Paul reached out to pull him in with a playful arm around his shoulders.

“I need you to message me every hour, and I’m having you protected,” Paul said, raising his hand when Zayn went to interrupt, “not with a bodyguard, just some surveillance, at least until we figure out who he is. He’s dangerous, and I don’t want to disrupt your life, but you’re in real danger here, mate.”

Zayn was quiet as he shifted from foot to foot, awkwardly avoiding looking at Paul. “I know you care, and I appreciate it, but I really do have to go. Please, Paul.”

Paul seemed to appraise him for a moment before he sighed. “Alright, fucking hell, fine. I’ll drive you.”

After hugging Anna goodbye and thanking her profusely, Zayn followed Paul down the hallway to the front door of the complex. He waved to some of the other people he saw, grinning when he noticed 7 year old Maia practicing her flying skills, when Paul spoke again.

“So. Liam, huh? The man that you love?”

Zayn could hear the smirk in Paul’s voice and he groaned, shoving him playfully with his shoulder. Paul had met all the boys plenty of times, pretended that they worked together at a bar to explain Zayn’s odd hours away, but Liam had always been his favourite. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t know where I was when you picked me up last night.”

“’course I knew. Just wanted to see you blush.”

His face flushed as he listened to Paul chuckle, but he couldn’t help the small smile that took over his face. The car ride to Liam’s place was quiet, and it was obvious that Paul was on constant alert. By the time they pulled up out the front of the building, exhaustion had hit Zayn in full force, and he was almost asleep in the passenger seat. He was beyond wrecked, the energy needed from the fight and keeping his shield up too much. He yawned, smacking his lips together as he blinked.

“We here? Thanks Paul.”

“Mate, you’re about to fall asleep in the car. I’m taking you up there, come on.”

Zayn grumbled as he opened the door, almost falling out of the car as he staggered to his feet with a wide yawn. He blinked through weary eyes just in time to see Paul standing in front of him, and then his knees buckled just as solid arms caught him.

“I thought you’d at _least_ make it to the front door, fucking hell. Alright Nightwing, up ya come.”

He dozed off as Paul carried him through the lobby and into the lift, only waking up again when Harry answered the door.

“Oh my God, _Zayn_! Is he alright? Come in, Paul, how are ya?” A quick onset of panic, worry weaving its way through, then a new feeling of optimism and…love? Zayn was too tired to dissect it, keeping his eyes closed to hopefully drift off again.

Zayn could hear Paul explaining that he’d come to help him at the bar and was just too tired from work and uni, but even Zayn knew it was a weak argument. Harry seemed to buy it though, fussing over Zayn as Paul walked into the living room. He let himself relax even more into the cocoon of Paul’s amusement and love, Niall’s warm concern and affection, mixing with Louis’ gentle alarm and fierce protectiveness. He was just awake enough to wonder why Louis was there instead of at home, and why he couldn’t feel Liam.

He batted weakly at Harry’s hands as he poked his cheek. “Cut it out,” he mumbled into Paul’s chest. “I want Leeyum.” Everyone seemed to stop for a moment except for Paul, who was shaking with silent laughter, and Zayn whined when no one said anything. “Where’s Liam? Want Liam,” he yawned, ignoring Louis’ snort of laughter and Harry’s quick giggle.

“He’s in his room, I’ll get him.” Niall. What a good man. Niall was his favourite now.

He heard Harry and Louis whispering in a conversation with Paul, heard two sets of footsteps walking back down the hall, and he made a happy, high pitched sound when he felt Liam step into the room. He felt cuddly and loving and safe, and Zayn kept his eyes closed as he reached out with grabby hands. Paul laughed as Zayn squirmed, Zayn heard Liam’s chuckle, and then Paul was passing him gently to arms that felt like _home._ He buried his face in Liam’s neck and inhaled deeply, humming happily when it just caused Liam’s arms to tighten around him.

“Look after him Payno, please. It’s been a rough night.” Paul’s voice sounded far away, but Liam was twisting his arm to run through Zayn’s hair, and Zayn was suddenly seconds away from falling back asleep.

“’course. Always do.” Zayn felt lips against his temple, and he was overwhelmed suddenly by _love_, as well as happiness and glee pouring off his friends.

Then everything started to fade away as Liam carried Zayn down the hall, and as soon as he was laid gently on the bed, he buried deep into the bedding with a sigh. He felt fingertips skating over his face, gently caressing his cheek and tucking his hair behind his ear. He sunk into the mattress, the smell of Liam’s cologne and shampoo making him smile, and when Liam leant in to press a kiss to his cheek, Zayn turned his head and caught his lips.

Liam seemed to jolt back slightly but Zayn stayed firm, his hand lifting slightly to rest on Liam’s thigh, smoothing his thumb over the denim. Liam groaned quietly, parting his lips to capture Zayn’s top one in between. Zayn shivered when Liam shifted to cup his face, and then he was pulling away to press his lips carefully to each eyelid, his nose, and then Zayn’s lips once more.

“Baby,” Liam’s voice was warm, and whisper quiet, “you need to sleep. We’ll talk when you’re awake, okay?” Another soft kiss, and Zayn hummed.

“kay. Stay though. Please. Sleep better with you here.” He knew he was speaking half sentences, but when Liam giggled, a sound that had Zayn warming from his toes, and laid down next to him, it didn’t matter. He was asleep the second Liam’s arms fell around him. 

He woke up hours later alone, the afternoon light streaming in through Liam’s window. He stretched, letting out a loud yawn as he heard his back crack. He felt rested and content, happy to laze about in Liam’s bed for as long as possible, but then he remembered how needy he’d been, how Paul had _carried him, _and he _asked for Liam_. For fucks sake. He swung his legs out of the bed and went to take a piss before he wandered out into the kitchen to get coffee.

He froze in the doorway and blinked twice. 

Louis was perched on the counter, arching his back with his legs around Harry’s waist as they kissed desperately, almost angrily, and Zayn could feel the anger and hurt in the air before he threw up his shield. Harry bit Louis’ lip, Louis pulled Harry’s hair, but then they groaned in unison and Zayn backed away to escape to the couch. What the fuck? Louis had a lot to fill him in on, apparently. It could wait; he didn’t fancy being on the receiving end of whatever emotions were happening there. 

The second he walked into the room he spotted Liam on the couch, leaning forward with his legs spread to read his textbook on the coffee table. Zayn felt a jolt of heat race through him, and he threw himself onto the couch and burrowed into Liam’s side before the other man could even react. 

“Hello, sleepyhead,” Liam greeted him happily, his eyes filled with amusement as Zayn gazed up at him. 

He closed his eyes and pushed into Liam’s touch when Liam cupped his chin and stroked across Zayn’s bottom lip with his thumb. “Hi.” He let his tongue dart out to lick across his bottom lip, celebrating internally when Liam’s eyes darkened. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“I hardly did anything, but you’re welcome.” Gentle hands held his face. “I’d do anything for you, you know. I - . ”

Zayn made a small noise of protest through the thick silence as Liam cut himself off, pressed a kiss to Liam’s neck to make him shudder, and just as he was about to kiss him properly, hoping to coax the words out, there was a knock on the door. 

“I’m gonna go have a shower,” he whispered, because suddenly the room was full of everyone else as well. Zayn didn’t dare comment on how dishevelled Harry and Louis looked, but he did shoot a knowing look at Louis, who steadfastly ignored him. 

He could hear them arguing about who had to answer the door as he shut the door to the bathroom. He tuned it all out as he took off his shirt, humming to himself as he let his shield drop halfway and froze.

He could feel it, that horrific pain that had almost killed him earlier today, but with half his shield active, he was still aware enough the pick apart the components. Anger, a fierce hatred and a burning soul, loss, and heartbreak. There was fear hidden in there too, but it was still too much to handle as he threw his shield back up. He realised half a second later what it meant. 

Abandoning his shirt, he raced back out to where everyone had been, but it was too late. The man, the one who had wanted to kill Zayn and who knew who he was, who hours before had made him thought he was going to die, was standing calmly in the centre of the room. He was wearing a full mask, silver, and he had a pistol pointed directly at the boys. _His_ boys. Zayn felt a rage he’d never experienced rushing to the surface when he looked at their faces; they were terrified, and probably for good reason. 

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” Zayn’s voice was like venom. “Come back to finish the job? The gun’s cheating a bit, innit?” His heart was _pounding_, terror ripping through him at the thought of something happening to one of them. This time, the terror was purely his own. 

The stranger laughed, and Zayn suddenly had flashes of something that felt like happier times; a swing set, jumping off just as he reached the top. He was small in the memory, maybe 3 or 4, but when he tried to hold on, it slipped away like sand. He shook his head to focus, and he could feel power building in him the angrier he got.

“I’m not here for _you,_ very selfish, as always,” the stranger mused, waving the gun at the boys. Zayn’s heart stopped. “Just playing a little game.”

“This isn’t a _game_, you fucking _prick,”_ Louis spat out, and Zayn raised his hand to stop him. 

When he looked at them, Louis was standing at the front because _of course he was, for fucks sake Louis,_ his arm flung out across Harry’s chest, Harry’s hand settled on Louis’ hip. Niall and Liam were standing ramrod straight, arms crossed over their chests, but where Niall was trying to stare down the man, Liam’s eyes were locked on Zayn. He tried to reassure him with his eyes, but Liam looked pained. 

“Come on, Mr Malik. Not many options here, is there?” 

And then he pulled the trigger, and everything building in Zayn’s body crashed forward. A harsh hand movement had the bullet stopping in mid-air before it hit Liam, and a flick of his wrist had fire landing in front of the boys to protect them. He pushed out a debilitating feeling of depression, but it only caused the man to frown and wince. Zayn pushed him backwards with a fist through the air, sending him careening into the coffee table, and when he dropped the gun, Zayn pulled it towards him and pulled out everything keeping it connected with a wriggle of his fingers. He heard small _tinks_ interspersed with larger _thunks _as it all hit the ground, and when he finally settled, he realised there was fire settling in his palms and licking at the air. 

The man just laughed and wiped blood from a small gash on his forehead. “Well. Good luck explaining this to your friends, _Lightning_.” Zayn stepped forward, anger and energy coursing through him, but then there was a cloud of smoke and he was gone. 

Zayn stood still for a moment, a small downward push of his open palms extinguishing the flames in the room. He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face before a flick of his wrist righted the table where it’d toppled against the man’s weight. 

“Um, mate?”

Ah fuck. Zayn spun around to face his friends, hands outstretched, and his heart sank when Harry and Niall seemed to flinch. 

“I’d never hurt you!” He blurted out, watching as Liam stepped forward cautiously. 

It was Louis who spoke from his place in front of Harry. “We know love, we know. That was fucking _wicked_. Just, we’re confused, yeah?” 

Harry’s deep voice echoed through the quiet. “It’s - it’s alright Zayn, you just _saved _us. We just don’t understand.” 

“Yeah mate, that was unreal, but who the fuck was that?” Niall sounded pissed, and Zayn allowed himself a small smile. 

Zayn focused his attention back on the beautiful man in front of him. “Liam,” he whispered, and when Liam’s hands floated hesitantly over his body, he nodded, and then they were everywhere. 

They skated up his sides, ran over his face, travelled carefully down his back, and Zayn realised he was checking him for injuries. 

“‘m okay, Li.” Zayn hummed when Liam cupped his face carefully, and he dropped his shield slightly to let in Liam’s warmth. He sagged under the onslaught of emotion, but it also seemed to recharge him when Liam pressed a kiss to his forehead. He could feel the other boys getting closer, and he suddenly realised that they were _all okay. _He sucked in a breath; they were okay, they seemed to still love him, everything was okay. His boys were fine. 

“Baby.” Liam’s voice was a whisper as he stroked his cheeks, and Zayn could hear Louis’ incredulous whisper of _‘Baby?’_ in the background. “You’re okay? God you were brilliant, love. You’ve been hiding this? No wonder you’ve been so overwhelmed. So good love, so proud of you.” 

Zayn sobbed out a breath of _pure relief _as Liam tugged him into his chest, and when he let his shield drop, he could feel love and support and awe coming from all of his boys, and then he was being hugged from everywhere. Liam pulled him in even closer with an arm around his waist, his lips pressed to his forehead as his hand slid up to cup the back of his head. He could feel Louis forehead between his shoulder blades, Harry’s cheek resting on the side of his head, and Niall burrowed into his side. 

For just a moment, Zayn let himself forget everything happening around them, and sank into the feeling.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get an explanation.

Zayn sat on the couch, fidgeting with his hands as he let himself relax, the room quiet and his shield up. He didn’t want to have to deal with trying to sort through the emotions and feelings from the boys while still attempting to navigate his own. He glanced up, saw four sets of eyes on him, and just. Started.

“Uh, well. I’m a superhero?” Zayn rubbed at the back of his neck, suddenly awkward, but he smiled sheepishly when Niall snorted.

“We kinda figured when you started throwing shit around the room and setting things on fire,” Niall replied gently, his grin wide but kind when Zayn looked at him. “Alright, tell us what you can do.”

All four boys leant forward slightly from their positions on the floor, and Zayn felt a surge of confidence as he locked eyes with Liam. There was a proud, amused half smile on his face, and when he realised Zayn was looking at him, he winked. Zayn felt a flush race up his chest and neck as he looked down at his hands.

“Well, me main power is like, emotions I guess? I can feel them in a room, pick up exactly what someone’s feeling.” Zayn paused at the sharp intake of breath that Liam took, but when he glanced up, Liam was looking at the carpet, and all the boys looked slightly shocked. “I can tell when someone’s happy, or sad, or scared, or any other emotion you can think of.”

Liam sounded slightly frantic when he spoke up. “Can you tell when someone’s in love, too?”

‘”I mean, yeah, mostly. I have to really know the person though, otherwise it just seems like affection or like, non-romantic love,” Zayn responded slowly, “and sometimes, that stuff is hidden under layers of other emotions and feelings, and it can take a bit to get to the bottom. I hardly ever push for it though, especially with the four of you. It’s only if I’m worried about you, usually.”

Liam seemed deep in thought as he nodded, but it was Louis’ voice next. “So, you can always feel our emotions? All the time?”

Zayn shrugged, not knowing what to do with his hands. “Yeah, if I want to. Most of the time, I have this like, mental shield that I can put up when I don’t want to, or if one of you is feeling a bit _too _much, or too strong an emotion,” Zayn explained, soothed slightly by the small nods going around the room. “It can help me figure out a situation, but it’s also really exhausting, feeling everything all the time. Draining,” he finished, a wry smile on his face. He tried to catch Liam’s eye, thought about dropping his shield again just a little bit to see what was going on, but he held out.

“Do the emotions affect you?” Harry asked, and that was when Liam’s head snapped up, and Zayn didn’t need to read the room to pick up the concern in his eyes.

Zayn smirked. Still just as protective. “All the time. It’s why I’m so tired usually, or quiet, I guess. It’s a lot to take in, and it’s fucking whiplash sometimes too. I can feel someone’s anger like it’s my own if I’m not ready for it, but then the next person that walks past could be deliriously happy and the contrast can fuck with me. Maintaining the shield’s exhausting too.”

“Can you change them?” Louis sounded downtrodden, but hopeful, and Zayn’s heart sank to his feet when he realised what he meant.

“I can kinda manipulate what you’re feeling at that exact moment, like, push out emotions to calm someone down or fill them with good thoughts if they’re having a bad day.” Zayn looked directly at Louis when he continued, and he watched as Louis let out a shuddering breath. “But I can’t _change _the way you feel inside, Lou. It’s not mind control. I can’t change how someone _really_ feels, and I’d never want to. It’s too much control, and besides, you _should_ feel everything at some point. Makes it real, you know?”

His gaze flicked to Niall when he raised his hand, chuckling to himself slightly, but he still saw the brief brush of Louis’ fingers over Harry’s and the barely noticeable grin on Harry’s face.

“Yes, Niall?”

“Do you ever do that to us? Change how we’re feelin’?”

“Hardly ever, honestly.” Zayn was desperate for them to understand. “It’s only if I can feel how truly hurt and upset you are, and then I just,” he waved his hands awkwardly and delighted in Liam’s giggle, “push out some warmth or something.”

“Have you always had your powers, or did you get bitten by something?”

A sigh. “Louis, that only happens in comic books. I’ve always had them.”

Zayn’s eyebrows shot up when Harry let out a loud gasp and thwacked Liam in the chest, causing a soft _ow._ “Li! He’s your own comic book character. Oh my God, Paul’s in on it, isn’t he? That’s why he calls you Nightwing.” He was bouncing where he sat, too excited to notice Liam trying to interrupt with a blush on his face, or Louis’ obvious look of adoration.

“Yeah, Paul’s almost like, my boss I suppose?”

Niall clicked his fingers and pointed at him. “I _knew_ you didn’t work at a fucking bar, ya little liar.”

Harry suddenly scooted around to grab Liam’s face and squish his cheeks, and even though it was only Harry, Zayn shifted uncomfortably at the jealously crackling just under his skin. “Liam. I’ve just figured it out, and it all makes sense because now it’s _real _instead of in our heads_._ You’re Zayn’s Batman. Nightwing and Batman.” He sighed and dropped his head onto Louis’ shoulder, but Zayn was too distracted by Liam’s blush and fidgeting hands to pay much attention.

Liam glanced up at him, his features warm through the red stain of heat on his face, and shifted closer. “Nightwing’s the best one, you know,” Liam murmured, moving closer to Zayn to lightly grip his ankle. “People underestimate him, but he’s fierce, and strong, and Batman needs him more than he needs Batman.” There was a slight tone to Liam’s voice that Zayn couldn’t catch, and he frowned.

“Wouldn’t be anything without Batman,” Zayn whispered, sliding from the couch to land directly in Liam’s lap with a small _oof, _his knees planted either side of Liam’s thighs_. _He was going too far, letting their new arrangement crash into their everyday life, but when Liam didn’t complain, he settled down more comfortably. He heard the others giggling, but he ignored them as he held Liam’s face in his hands. “Still need protecting,” his voice still low, and he sighed when Liam’s hands came up to grip his waist. “Always need you, Li. A team, yeah?”

Liam’s eyes were clear and happy when Zayn pulled back, and Zayn shivered when Liam’s thumbs dropped and dug into his hips. “I’d do anything for you, you know.”

A loud clap from Niall drew them out of their little bubble and they both startled. Zayn shifted to sit back on the couch, but Liam’s grip held firm, so he relaxed back into his warmth.

“Alright you dicks, we’ve got more important things to deal with than the two of you finally fucking dealing with your repressed sexual tension,” Niall said, pushing on through Liam’s choked cough and Zayn’s startled laugh, “like the fact someone kind of tried to kill us. Who the fuck was that?”

“I’m not sure. I was at a job last night, and he was there, but it’s the first I’ve seen or heard him. He knew my name, so Paul’s worried. A lot of people don’t like us in general, but I ah – I have a bit more of my name in the papers than some of the others. He wanted to keep me at the compound so he could watch over me, but he seemed to be alright with me coming here.”

“Why?” Harry frowned slightly, shifting to lay on his stomach, head resting on Louis’ thigh. “Not that I’m not happy you’re here, obviously, always, but that wanker _did _find you here.”

Zayn paused for a moment, wondering if it’d be too much, if Liam would read too much into it. He supposed it didn’t really matter when it was the truth, and Liam’s thumbs stroking his stomach now gave him courage.

“He said it’d be fine because Liam’s here, and he knows he’d protect me. Probably wasn’t expecting someone with a gun though,” he laughed, an awkward noise that filled the room.

There was a brief moment of silence, just enough for Zayn to regret saying anything, and then Liam’s arms were winding around his waist, his lips pressing to Zayn’s temple. “Absolutely,” Liam murmured in his ear, and then Zayn was melting into a puddle on the floor, a soft lump of feelings and Liam and bullshit that he didn’t have time to deal with.

Right. Bad guy. Had a gun. Tried to shoot the boys. Focus Malik, for fucks sake.

It took Zayn a moment to collect himself, to feel like he was physically gathering all the bits and pieces floating around that were starting to settle into something that felt like Liam’s soul. He’d found himself drifting more and more lately, losing pieces of himself, but he never had time to mourn them; they were immediately drawn to, and collected by, the man in front of him, so it never felt like a loss. He felt more loved, protected, and cared for than ever before. Liam didn’t steal bits of him to keep so no one else could have them; he wrapped them up in cotton wool, whispered praises to them in the night, and sent them back to Zayn to make him stronger than ever. It felt like the more time that went on, the more that Zayn wanted to willingly share every part of him to Liam and borrow parts of him in return.

The parts that held Zayn closer during horror movies and let him bury his face in his neck, or that motivated him to study by performing ridiculous dances every time he got a flash card right. He wanted the parts of Liam that no one got to see, the parts that made Liam _real_. The tears of frustration over a missed mark in one of his education classes, or the tears that fell whenever Captain America lost Bucky. He wanted everything he’d ever gotten from Liam, every part he’d already seen, plus the new ones; the way his hands held Zayn’s wrists tight, the sound he made when Zayn came, the reverent way he held Zayn’s face when he kissed him.

Zayn shifted where he was sat on Liam’s lap just as Niall sent a barrage of questions at him that left his head spinning. 

He spent the next hour explaining Paul and the compound, how they’d met and the other superheroes he knew. He showed them how he could control fire and held it in the palm of his hand, watching with thinly veiled amusement as Louis came up to run his hand through it. He’d spent at least five minutes convincing Harry it wasn’t dangerous, that he could control the temperature or how it could hurt someone. He’d blushed at the wonder in Liam’s eyes as the cool flames had licked at his skin where Zayn still sat in his lap, and laughed along with the boys when he played catch with Niall, flicking golf balls at him with a quick movement and then catching them in the air when he threw them back.

He hadn’t felt so _accepted_ by anyone before, because while both sides of his life had accepted him without question, no one really knew every part of him. Now, it felt like the four other boys did, and Zayn felt tears well in his eyes at the weight that lifted off his shoulders. No one said anything, but Liam’s gentle hand came up to swipe a thumb under his eye, and it was more than enough.

“I’ve seen you a lot in the papers,” Liam said quietly, his hand coming back to rest on the dip in Zayn’s waist. “They call you ‘Lightning’, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zayn answered, voice just as low as Niall and Louis seemed to be arguing if Zayn or Iron Man would win in a fight. “Just as dangerous, apparently.”

“And just as bright.” Liam’s voice was so soft it was hard to hear him, but Zayn leant forward to rest their foreheads togethers, his arms winding around Liam’s neck. He let himself be selfish for just a minute and dropped his shield to focus on him, and only him.

It almost knocked him backwards, the intense wave of love that was gently lapping at Zayn’s skin. He let out a shaky breath, tilted his head slightly to nudge their noses together, and just as he felt a strong crest of _want_, Niall spoke.

“I don’t want to ruin the vibe here, but is there any reason why this guy might be after you? Could it be the vigilante thing, like he thinks you’re disrupting cops or summat?”

Zayn bristled at the comment, even though it wasn’t Niall’s fault, and felt Liam’s concern more than recognised it in the small sound he let out. He pushed his shield back up. He _hated_ the word ‘vigilante’, even though Paul had pointed out that there was no other word for it. Zayn thought it was _different_ though, because they had special abilities that the police department didn’t have access to, and the police and local government refused to work with them. Everything they did was painted in a bad light, all the times Zayn and everyone else had risked their lives to help someone, and being called a vigilante made _him_ seem like the bad guy.

“I hate that, you know,” Zayn started, but he was already too frustrated and emotional to get the proper thoughts out. He focused on Liam’s hand rubbing soothing circles on the small of his back. “We just try our best, you know? The police don’t give a fuck half of the time, and superpowers are rare, so it’s so easy to just, cast us aside and label us the enemy.” Zayn’s hands curled into fists at the nape of Liam’s neck, and then suddenly all of the boys were surrounding them as a lone, fat tear escaped and travelled down his cheek. “They want to lock us up, or kill us, or something people just want to kidnap us to do experiments,” Zayn felt Liam’s fingers clench, as if it would keep him safe, “and it’s so exhausting. I love what I can do, most of the time, but it’s fucking _exhausting_, you know? I’m just trying to do the right thing.” He finished on a sigh and burrowed his face into Liam’s neck, and he could feel Louis’ hand tickling through the short hairs on the sides of his scalp.

“Like Nightwing, babe,” Louis said proudly, and Zayn snorted.

“Yeah babe, like Nightwing.” He pulled himself up and away from Liam’s neck and sat back, upright on his lap. “I s’pose you’re right though, Ni. Could be that kind of bullshit. Seems personal though, and I don’t know why.” He frowned and reached for his phone before he realised he’d left it in Liam’s room. “Ah shit, I should go call Paul. He’s probably sent out a search party.”

He stood up on shaky legs, grateful for Harry’s steadying hand on the small of his back, and leaned into Liam as soon as he was standing in front of him.

“’M gonna go have a shower, love,” Liam murmured, kissing him on the top of the head before he left the room, a quick backwards glance and a shy smile on his face as Niall and Harry followed him out the door to head to the kitchen.

Zayn let out a shaky breath, laughing slightly as he ran his fingers through his hair. It was done. They all knew, and no one had run screaming, and no one had judged him, and –

“Zayn.”

He spun around quickly and noticed Louis standing in the middle of the room, his expression unreadable.

“Fuck Lou, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I never told you, and that I let some arsehole almost kill everyone, and that - .”

And then Zayn was caught in the tightest hug he’d ever gotten, Louis’ arm deceivingly strong around him, one around his shoulders and the other around his waist. Zayn sank into the embrace greedily, wrapping his arms around Louis and letting a small sob escape. Louis just held him, rubbing his back and whispering that he was okay, everyone was safe as Zayn shuffled to get even closer. He’d always secretly hoped that Louis had some kind of powers, that they’d be able to work together; partners in crime, just like with everything else. This was more than enough though, Louis’ face pressed into his shoulder. He could always just get Louis to dress up as Robin for Halloween or something.

“Love you, mate.” 

“Love you too, Lou.”

Louis pulled back and sat on the couch, patting the empty space next to him until Zayn sat down with a grin. 

“You said you can feel everything, yeah?” Louis sounded hesitant, so Zayn just nodded and let him figure out what to say, waiting patiently as Louis rubbed over the rope inked into his skin. Always a clear sign of who he was thinking about. “So, you know about Haz, then.” 

It wasn’t a question, and Zayn could tell it wasn’t supposed to be. For a brief minute, he let Louis bask in the obvious relief he felt from being able to _finally _talk to someone about it, about the man he’d fallen in love with, a simple _‘Oops’ _and_ ‘Hi!’ _sealing their fate years ago. 

“I know you’re in love with him.” Zayn kept his voice quiet as he threw his arm around Louis’ shoulders. “I know you always have been. I don’t know what happened between you, but I know you how feel.”

Louis let out a desperate laugh and ran a hand down his face. “Thought you said it was hard to tell when someone was _in_ love.”

Zayn shaking his head before Louis even finished the question, tangling careful fingers in Louis’ hair. “Not with you, babe. Sometimes your emotions are so _intense_. You hold onto everything. You have to let it out, Lou, otherwise it’s gonna swallow you whole,” Zayn said softly, watching as Louis’ bottom lip trembled. “I can read you better than anyone, but a lot of the time you’re not even being subtle. What you feel for Harry sits right at the surface, almost screaming to get out. It always slams right into me. Not gonna lie, before I figured out it was you pushing feelings into me back then, I thought _I _was in love with him.”

He felt Louis shake with silent laughter, his hands coming up to push Zayn off as he chuckled. “Nah Malik, it’s always been Payno for you.” Zayn made a small noise of agreement, but Louis pushed on, voice tentative and almost scared. “Does ah, does Haz - does he feel the same?”

Fuck. He should’ve seen this coming. He couldn’t read Harry the way he could read Louis, but he’d felt enough to know he did. The way he lit up around Louis, or the jealousy that seemed to burn Zayn’s skin whenever Louis talked about past relationships. Harry’s mood always brightened an entire room when Louis walked in, and the combination of them was usually too beautiful to ignore. Lately though, he couldn’t wrap his head around it all. It was still beautiful, but in that devastating way that a storm still looks breath-taking even as it destroys a city. 

“S’not my place, Lou. I’m sorry.” It was the only answer Zayn had, and even though it wasn’t what Louis wanted or needed, Harry was one of his best mates too. 

Louis inhaled sharply. “I get it, thanks mate.” Zayn watched as he tucked his feet under his legs, smiling at the wall through to the kitchen where he could hear Niall booming voice and Harry’s cackle. “We hooked up at Niall’s party a few weeks back, right here in their kitchen. Can’t believe no one saw,” Louis laughed, but it was almost heart breaking. “I’ve been in love with him since I met him, those fucking curls and those _eyes_ and those _fucking dimples. _I never had a chance.”

“I don’t think he did either, babe,” Zayn added, smiling at Louis when he looked around in surprise, almost like he’d forgotten Zayn was there. 

“Well he seems to have found a second one.” Louis groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. Zayn pulled him back against his side, curiosity peaking. “We slept together, and it was _amazing, _best I’ve ever had. I was so fucking happy, and he seemed it too, kissing me all night and curling up against my chest to sleep.

But in the morning he was gone, from his own _flat_. I waited for him, texted him, called, but he never came back. I didn’t hear back from him for three days, and it just said, ‘sorry mate, had some stuff to do’, like he hadn’t just ripped out my whole _heart_.” 

Zayn could feel an anger building in his chest as Louis spoke, a frustration that only settled when he reminded himself that this was Harry, and there must be a good reason. Surely.

“What did he say when you asked him about it?”

Louis snorted. “Nothin’ really.” Maybe not then. “He just, withdrew. Stopped coming over and ignored my texts and snaps and calls. Then I found out he had that date last night, and I just,” Louis chuckled, but it was the most self-deprecating thing Zayn had ever heard, “lost it.”

“I know,” Zayn said quietly. “I felt it.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. That wouldn’t have been a fun time for you.”

Zayn let his fingers drift through Louis’ hair. “I don’t care about how it felt for _me_. You started talking about hooking up with a guy though, and then between your anger and Harry’s self-loathing, it was a lot.”

Louis’ head snapped up. “I knew he was affected by it all, the fucking wanker. He ended up coming out with Ni and I anyway last night, said his date was shit. Kissed me as I was halfway through a cigarette.”

“Did you sleep with him again?” Zayn could hear the amusement in his own voice, and he giggled when Louis laughed. 

“Of course. Why do you think I was here this morning?”

Zayn barked out a harsh laugh, and then realised he was _dying _for a cigarette. “C’mon, let’s go finish this outside.” 

They trudged outside, ignoring Niall’s calls for help from the kitchen, and when Zayn inhaled the first drag, he moaned in relief. 

Louis’ eyebrows jumped up his forehead. “Alright mate, calm down.”

“Bit rich coming from the guy who I walked in on this morning about to let Harry fuck him on the counter.” Zayn looked smugly over at Louis, taking another drag as Louis stood frozen for a minute. The anger behind their kiss made sense now. “It was proper hot, mate.” 

He cackled as Louis kicked out at him, dodging the socked foot and almost landing on his arse. 

“Alright then wanker, if that’s how you want this to go. Try not to basically fuck Liam on the floor in front of us please, there’s places to go if you have an exhibitionist kink.” 

Zayn coughed as the smoke settled oddly in his throat. “Fuck off, you dick. It’s only been once, and we didn’t even sleep together.”

Oh _no._

Louis turned slowly to face him, a shit eating grin on his face as he flicked the ash off his cigarette. Zayn ignored him.

“_Excuse you_. When. The fuck. Did this happen?”

Zayn whined, flicking his wrist to let his cigarette hang in the air as he buried his face in his hands. “Last night. Told him all about the submissive stuff, and he just like, offered to help, yeah? As if I was gonna turn him down, ever.” When he peeked through his fingers back at Louis, he was cackling, leaning against the wall to support himself. “Oh, fuck off, I’ve been in love with him for years, let me have this.”

Louis’ face softened as his laughter died down, but the grin on his face stayed. “I’m happy for you, honestly. As long as you don’t get hurt, obviously.” Louis shot him a pointed look, and then noticed the cigarette dangling just near Zayn’s face. “That’s fucking unreal, mate. It’ll take me a bit to get used to it, I think.”

“I’d be surprised if it didn’t.”

“Alright, so the big question.” Louis leaned forward, indicating for Zayn to do the same, and then whispered, “So is he good?”

Zayn groaned, drawing back quickly as he swiped at Louis’ chest, grinning as Louis laughed. “Yes, okay? He was fucking perfect. I knew he would be.”

Once they’d gone back inside to lunch, thankfully cooked by Harry, and a wet, warm Liam who’d entered the room with just a towel around his waist, Zayn remembered that he’d never called Paul.

“Ah shit!” He’d just jumped up, almost kneeing Niall in the face from where he sat on the floor, when the door slammed open, and all five of them screamed. Zayn relaxed when he recognised the figure in the doorway. “Oh, thank _fuck_, it’s just you. It’s alright, it’s just Paul, fucking hell. That’s good timing, I was just about to - .”

“Where the fuck have you been?” Ah shit. Paul was _furious,_ and it was only then that Zayn remembered the door had actually been locked before Paul pushed his way in. “It’s been _hours_ Zayn, do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? You told me you’d message me every hour, and then I find out from Will, of all people, that you got attacked! Why would you tell Will and not me?”

“I didn’t tell Will!” Zayn protested, and while the other boys backed up slightly, Liam took a step forward. “He’s a Seer, Paul, he would’ve had a vision! I was gonna call, honestly, I was just about to, but when that happened, the lads found out and I had to explain it all and it’s a big story!”

Paul was breathing harshly through his nose, but Zayn could see him looking around the room to make sure everything was okay. When he was satisfied, he seemed to ease up slightly, and Zayn sighed in relief. Angry Paul was terrifying.

“Fine, but if you _ever_ do that again - .”

“I won’t.” Zayn’s answer was quick, and he settled a bit more when Liam’s hand landed at the small of his back.

Paul seemed to notice him for the first time. “Payno! How’ve you been? Been looking after my boy, I hope.”

“Always,” Liam responded with a grin, his fingers fanning out and pressing into Zayn’s back. Zayn sank further into the feeling, turning slightly to nose at Liam’s neck.

“He can probably look after himself now Payno, with the superpowers and all,” Niall called out from behind them, but Paul’s eyes seemed glued to them, a wide smile on his face.

Paul reached out to clap Liam on the shoulder, and Zayn jolted from the impact. “Think Liam’s got it under control regardless, Horan. Now, let’s catch up properly.”

Niall had loved seeing Paul’s super strength in action as he’d crushed objects or picked up Harry with an index finger under his collar. Zayn had settled in between Liam’s spread legs on the floor, his back to Liam’s chest, and when Liam’s hand came up to pull his head back gently to rest on his shoulder, his fingers running through Zayn’s blonde fringe, Zayn had a sudden, possibly ridiculous, thought.

Did Liam have actual, genuine feelings for him? Zayn knew he wasn’t this affectionate with anyone else, not even past partners, but Zayn thought he’d always been so obvious in the way he loved Liam that something would’ve happened before now. Thinking back on it, maybe it didn’t seem fair to put all the responsibility on Liam. Zayn had just never thought it would be possible, something that would ever actually happen someday, but here now, with Liam’s hand in his hair and his lips on his cheek, it didn’t seem so far away. 

Had Louis always been right? Fucking God forbid; he could never tell him, even if he had. Did Liam actually look at him the same way Zayn knew he looked at Liam? Had Zayn just not been paying enough attention to notice? Liam had jumped at the idea of helping Zayn, of taking care of him, but sex and love weren’t the same thing. He was too deep in his thoughts to realise he’d been drawing patterns on Liam’s thigh until fingers caught his. Zayn looked down in surprise, saw the way their hands looked intertwined, all gorgeous ink and contrasting size, and felt a heat start to settle in his stomach. Suddenly, the last 24 hours caught up with him, the constant hammering to his mind and body finally taking its toll. He started to fidget, the itch growing under his skin again, the need to put everything out of his mind. 

Liam’s voice, though soft, seemed deafening when he whispered in his ear. “Alright? What are you thinking about?”

“Everything.” Zayn pushed further back into Liam’s body, turning his head to brush his lips across his neck. “You.”

Fingers tightened, digging into his thigh and tugging on his hair. Zayn let out a shaky breath, and he felt Liam’s cock start to harden against his back. He shuffled against it, suddenly desperate to have it inside him, to let Liam fuck him and take away everything that was gnawing at him and making him feel dizzy. 

“What about me?” Liam murmured, and Zayn was aware that the boys were still talking to Paul. 

He chanced a look at Louis and dropped his head back to Liam’s shoulder when he saw a small smirk on his face. Louis could get fucked. 

“Want you.” Zayn let his tongue dart out to swipe over Liam’s neck, revelling in the groan and shiver it bought out of him. It was incredibly freeing to be able to tell Liam like this, to be allowed to want him.

Liam’s fingers tightened in his hair as his other hand ran up Zayn’s body, feeling every dip and line, grazing over his nipple and finishing at his throat. Zayn tried desperately to stay in control, but he could feel a damp spot in his pants where he was leaking, and he panted softly into Liam’s neck. His head swam when Liam wrapped his whole hand around his throat, not squeezing, just resting, but his thumb pressed into the spot behind Zayn’s ear, and Liam shushed him when he whined. 

“Quiet, baby,” Liam scolded, and Zayn wriggled back against him, desperate for something, anything, “or I’ll have to punish you later, and I really don’t want to have to do that.”

“What do you want?” Zayn choked on his words, and when he glanced up again, Harry was eyeing them with a small grin, and an obvious interest. Such a perve. 

Although definitely Zayn’s fault for getting hard in the fucking lounge room. 

“What do I want?” Liam squeezed gently, another wave of_ want _wrapping around them, heady in the air, and Zayn felt dizzy with it all. “I want to tie you to my bed and take you apart. I want to make you come at least twice before I fuck you, but I won’t fuck you unless you’re good for me. Can you be good for me, darling?”

Niall’s voice cut through everything, suddenly jarring. 

“Does it feel weird in here? I don’t know what it is, but I feel...I don’t know. Summat weird in the air.”

Zayn heard Paul’s snorted laugh. “Ah. That would be our friend over there. Half Payne’s fault though - need to work on your whispering, mate.”

There was a squawk from Niall, laughter from the others, and Zayn started to protest, even as Liam hid a grin into Zayn’s neck. Zayn tried to scowl at the room, but as his eyes rolled with a put on sigh, he couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto his face. 

“‘m sorry, hang on.” With a deep breath, Zayn closed his eyes. 

He tried to ignore Liam’s lips where his smile still pressed into his neck, threw his shield up, and pulled all the want and lust he was feeling back into his body. He shifted when it coursed through him, stronger than before, and leant back into Liam’s body. 

Zayn kept his eyes closed and tuned out everyone else, just focused on where Liam was humming softly near his ear. He relaxed further into the solid weight of the man behind him, almost purring when Liam’s touch turned gentle and soothing instead of possessive and wanting. It didn’t feel desperate anymore, just felt like the touch that Zayn had always come to expect from Liam. Zayn still felt loved and wanted as Liam’s hands ran firmly along his arms and tickled at his belly, but he let the flicks of heat simmer down into a cozy cocoon of safety and warmth. He hadn’t even realised he was starting to drift off until Liam attempted to whisper across the room. 

“I’m gonna take him to bed, he looks exhausted.” 

Zayn didn’t need to drop his shield to know that Liam was worried about him, but he was comfortable and content to stay where he was. He _was_ tired, could feel it down to his core, the need to rest until he woke up naturally when his body was ready to face the world again. He still made a soft noise of complaint though, twisting to curl up into Liam’s chest. 

“Don’t wanna move,” he mumbled into Liam’s sweater, gripping the fabric as he felt his chest shake with laughter. He ignored Harry’s _aw, look how sweet they are_ and tilted his head to look up at Liam through his lashes.

He couldn’t help but feel triumphant when Liam seemed frozen for a moment, his gaze intense as he swallowed heavily. Zayn figured he could take full advantage of this new Liam, the one who seemed to suddenly be rendered speechless at things Zayn said or did. He’d never let himself be seductive with Liam before because he hadn’t wanted to scare him off. Now though, suddenly, as if a struggling dam had broken, Liam seemed to welcome it. He blinked sleepily up at him, shifted in his lap, and pouted slightly. Liam exhaled shakily, reaching up to run a thumb under Zayn’s eye, and Zayn had to turn away to hide his grin. 

“I’ll carry you then.”

That was the only warning he got before he was letting out a small shriek as Liam gripped him tightly and stood. 

“Leeyum! Put me _down_, you caveman, I can walk!” Zayn couldn’t hide the gleeful laughter though, tightening his arms around Liam’s neck as he marched them past the other lads.

Liam was grinning, his eyes crinkling, and Zayn couldn’t help but be turned on by the display of easy strength. Pretty on brand for him, he supposed.

“C’mon, you need to rest babe.” Liam kicked open his door, jolting Zayn slightly in his arms. 

Zayn was placed delicately on the bed though, shimmying out of his clothes as soon as Liam let go of him. His eyelids were growing heavy under the dim light of Liam’s bedside lamp, and when he was finally down to just his pants, he turned onto his stomach to face plant into Liam’s pillow with a happy sound. 

There was a chuckle behind him as Liam pulled the duvet up to cover his arse. “Comfortable, love?”

“Mmhm.”

Then Liam’s fingers were lightly trailing over his back, slow strokes lazily travelling up and down his skin until Zayn moaned and sank into the bed. Having someone tickle his back was Zayn’s favourite feeling in the world, and always got him to fall asleep quicker than anything else. It was a famous tool in Liam’s arsenal whenever Zayn refused to sleep because he was sitting up late painting or trying to finish an assignment. He’d never done it while Zayn was half naked and in his bed, though.

He felt his cock twitch with interest and cursed silently, want and exhaustion racing through him in equal measures. Liam’s hand moved to rub lightly across his shoulders and scratch at the nape of his neck, and Zayn rutted against the mattress lazily. 

“Time to sleep, babe,” Liam whispered, laughing softly and leaning down to kiss Zayn’s temple as he hummed. 

There was still a rolling wave of heat moving through his body, but exhaustion was winning out, and his shield dropped. The familiar feelings of _safe_ and _warm_ and _affection_ flowed off Liam, and between that and Liam’s gentle fingers on his back, he could only stay awake long enough to say good night. That wasn’t what came out though. 

“Love you, Leeyum.”

A soft, shaky exhale that he couldn’t understand, frustration and sadness slipping through the cracks in Liam’s emotions. Zayn was too tired to figure it out, and he sank further into the pillow. 

“I love you too, Zayn.”

And then he finally let himself rest. 

*****

When Zayn woke up, it was to Liam’s fingers combing through his hair, sunlight streaming in through the gap in the curtains, and Harry whispering into the room where the door was cracked open.

“Sorry Li, I just wanted to let you both know I’d made breakfast.”

Zayn could feel Liam and Harry’s emotions combining in the room to create a feeling of content, hiding a _slight_ undercurrent of fear and carefulness. Liam was obviously trying not to wake him, but he squirmed in Liam’s arms and sprawled out more on his chest.

“Thanks Haz, we’ll be out in a sec.” Liam’s arm tightened around Zayn’s waist as his fingers kept up their soft exploring, untangling knots in his wilted quiff as the door shut softly behind Harry. “Morning, love. How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” Zayn answered around a yawn, hitching his leg up to tangle with Liam’s, burrowing deeper into his hold. “Can we stay in bed though?”

Liam giggled, and Zayn’s heart felt like it was going to fall out of his mouth. “Harry cooked for us babe, up ya get, c’mon.”

Zayn heaved out a sigh, stretching and twisting until he rolled off Liam with a small _oof_. “Alright, alright,” Zayn huffed, moving to sit up, but then there was a rush of something he couldn’t pinpoint in the room, and Liam was yanking him back to lay on the bed. The breath whooshed out of him as his hands automatically went to Liam’s shoulders, spreading his legs to let Liam settle in between them. “Thought I had to get up, Payne.” He arched his back slightly just as Liam pressed a hand into the small of his back, pulling him further up against his body.

“We do,” Liam murmured, leaning down until a feeling of nervousness coming from him hit Zayn square in the chest, “but I wanted to say hi first.”

Zayn shifted up to brush their noses together, trying to quell the anxiety Liam was spitting into the room like fire. He didn’t want to taint this moment by altering it himself, and just let Liam feel. “You already said hi,” he grinned, sinking back slowly as Liam pressed down into him more.

“I know.” It was whispered, and Liam was looking straight into Zayn’s eyes when he’d said it, and Zayn could feel his heart thumping in his chest when Liam angled his head slightly.

This felt different than yesterday, and the day before, felt too real to be just about Liam helping Zayn when he needed it. The desperation was gone, just sweet softness left, and while Zayn had always wanted to kiss Liam, every day since he’d met him, he realised that he could now. He breathed out against Liam’s lips, felt him shudder slightly on top of him, and then connected their mouths gently in a kiss that sunk down to his toes. 

Zayn tried to deepen it, flicked his tongue against Liam’s lips and wrapped his leg around his waist, but Liam cupped his jaw and kept it slow. Zayn couldn’t hold in the small grunt of frustration, wrapping his arms around Liam’s back to pull him further into him. He was warm and solid, shirtless and gorgeous on top of Zayn, but when he ran his hand down Liam’s chest to touch his abs, Liam pecked his lips a couple of times and pushed up on hands. 

“Come back,” Zayn pouted, already missing Liam’s weight. “You’re a brilliant kisser.”

Liam chuckled, quickly ducking down to kiss Zayn, but pulling away before Zayn could respond properly. His face was flushed red, and Zayn laughed at his pleased grin.

“It’s one of my many talents, you know?”

“I have no doubt, babe.” And then Zayn was being kissed again, a large hand cupping his face as he lazily sucked on Liam’s bottom lip. “If we don’t get up now though,” a nip to Zayn’s top lip, “I never will,” fingers running through Liam’s hair, “and Harry’s breakfast will go to waste, yeah?”

They shifted to sit up, and just as Zayn stood, he was pulled back gently to stand between Liam’s legs where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He could feel Liam’s mixture of worry and anxiety before a burst of courage almost knocked him on his arse. He clung onto Liam’s head to steady himself just as the man pressed a kiss to his stomach. 

“This is alright, yeah? I know you don’t like, need it right now, but I just want - .” 

Zayn cut Liam off with a finger to his lips. “More than okay, babe. You can kiss me whenever you want.” 

Happiness soaked into his pores, opened him up for the barrage of pure joy Liam was pushing into the room. He let out a startled laugh, bending over to kiss Liam fiercely before he pressed their foreheads together, and walked out of the room with a wink. He still heard Liam call out after him though. 

“Oi, what was that for?”

Zayn knew his face was smug. “I can feel your emotions, Li.” He heard Liam’s laughed curse as he wandered down the hall, poking his head into the kitchen to check on Harry. “Hey Haz, need a hand?”

When he spun around, Zayn couldn’t hold in his snort. He was shirtless, because of course he was, and his chest, shoulders, and hair were _covered _in flour. Zayn was confused for about half a second until he noticed Louis, sitting on the counter, feet swinging innocently with his hand in a packet of flour. 

“Nah I’m good, thanks mate,” Harry replied easily, turning back to flip some pancakes and casually throwing sugar into Louis’ hair as he spun. “But there’s coffee on the bench, got some in a mug already for you.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Zayn sighed, making a beeline across the room as Louis swore loudly. 

He wrapped his hands greedily around the ceramic, moaning when he took the first sip. Surprisingly, neither of the boys gave him any shit for it, but when he hummed and looked up, he realised why. The room was almost stifling under the weight of Harry and Louis’ emotions, so Zayn threw his shield up as he rolled his eyes. He watched them cautiously though, sipping his coffee and leaning against the counter as Harry swept sugar out of Louis’ fringe and Louis ran a hand down Harry’s chest to pretend to brush off the flour. 

He didn’t need to feel it anymore; he could see the love and want and fear they both threw into the room as clear as if he’d never had a shield at all. It was obvious in the hesitance Harry showed before he tangled his fingers carefully in Louis’ hair, the guarded look in Louis’ eyes even as he thumbed flour affectionately off Harry’s cheek. They seemed to only remember he was there when Louis jumped down to go take a shower, and they obviously both moved to kiss. He coughed obviously, hiding his grin behind his coffee as they both startled and looked at him. He raised his eyebrows at Louis as he slipped past Zayn on the way to the shower, stifling a laugh when he completely avoided Zayn’s gaze.

“So,” Zayn started, moving into the kitchen to take Louis’ place on the counter, “you all good?”

Harry was flushed as he plated pancakes, but his voice was clear when he spoke. “Yeah, all good.” He turned around, three plates in his hands, and gestured to Zayn to take the two on the counter. “Just, trying to figure out some things. I’m sure you know how it is.” 

Zayn laughed at the smirk on Harry’s face as he jumped down and flicked his wrist, the two plates floating in the air and following Harry into the lounge room. “Yeah man, I get it. Just don’t overanalyse it, alright? It’ll all work out. Lads! Breakfast!”

When he put the plates down with a click and took a seat, he looked across at Harry to find him smiling down at his plate. He kicked out gently, catching Harry’s ankle, and scrunched his nose with a grin when he looked up. 

“Happy for you, Haz.” 

Harry blushed just as the others came rushing in, Louis seeming to start eating before he even sat down next to Harry. Zayn grimaced at him, popping a piece of pancake in his mouth as Liam settled to his left, his hand coming up to rest on the back of Zayn’s neck. Niall and Louis were having a spirited conversation about football while Liam watched on amusedly. Zayn couldn’t tear his eyes away from Liam’s profile, his strong jaw and thick stubble as Liam’s thumb rubbed circles against his neck. Fuck, he loved him _so much. _His gaze snapped back to Harry when he felt his foot knock against his ankle. 

“Same to you, Zayn.” 

With a chuckle, he dropped his shield, and basked in the glow that his friends always provided. 


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything's perfect, until it's not.

It’d been the exact type of day that Zayn had needed; hanging out at his second home with his best mates, wrapped up in Liam’s arms as they’d lazed on the couch, watching Louis almost kill someone when Niall bet him at FIFA, and watching Harry and Louis gravitate towards each other more as the day went on. At the moment, Harry was curled up against Louis’ chest, long legs swung over his lap as Louis drew soft patterns on his knee. Zayn moved his head from Liam’s lap, dislodging Niall where he was resting on Zayn’s stomach, and stood, scratching his stomach as he stretched. 

“‘m just gonna have a smoke, I’ll be back.” Zayn answered Louis’ silent question as he moved towards the door, a soft hand movement opening the packet on the table and sending one speeding into his hand just as he got to the door to the balcony.

“Fuck that’s cool.” Niall was staring at his hands, and Zayn flushed.

“Alright if I bum one?” Liam asked, reaching out to slap the back of Louis’ head when he snickered. 

Zayn grinned, nodding at Liam as another cigarette flew into his hand. “Yeah babe, course.”

He leant his back against the railing as soon as he stepped outside, his legs spreading slightly so he could pull Liam in between them. He laughed as Liam stumbled before he caught himself on the rail, caging Zayn in against the metal. Zayn wordlessly lifted both cigarettes to their lips, clicked his fingers to start a flame, and held it in the middle so they could light them with the harmless spark. He kept his eyes locked on Liam as he took his first drag, but Liam’s eyes were staring at the still flickering fire between them. 

“Alright, babe?” He tried to keep his voice steady, but Liam was basically pressed up against him and he only has _so_ much self-control. 

“Do you need the flashy hand movements?”

Zayn let out a bark of a laugh, shifting the flame between his fingers with a roll as he exhaled. “If anyone asks, of course I do, but because it’s you,” he paused to extinguish the fire with a flamboyant movement, “absolutely not. The hand movements aren’t necessary in anything I can do, but it has a bit more style that way.” 

“Obviously,” Liam laughed, pushing out a cloud of smoke and stepping back. Zayn frowned. “So, do you use your powers all the time, like at home when you just wanna pick something up?” 

With an easy thought, Zayn had Liam automatically moving towards him to settle back into the spread of his legs. Liam laughed, shock clear on his face, as he bought his free hand up to cup Zayn’s cheek. 

“Only the things I really want.” Where the fuck had _that_ come from? Before he had a chance to apologise, Liam was leaning forward to kiss him firmly. Zayn was panting by the time Liam pulled back, one hand tight around Liam’s belt loop. “Sorry, that was out of line. I should’ve asked, I can’t just be moving you around without your consent, I - .”

But Liam cut him off, dropping his cigarette to slide his arms around Zayn and haul him into his body. Zayn managed to catch both their lit cigarettes in the air, letting them hover as he moaned into Liam’s mouth. He heard something _thunk_ against the glass door, one of the boys throwing something at the door most likely, but he couldn't have cared less. He tangled his fingers into Liam’s hair and twisted just as a hand moved down to cup his arse. He pressed harder, suddenly hot in the cold night-time air, and his knees felt weak when Liam slid his tongue into his mouth. He was demanding, dominating the kiss as he cupped the back of Zayn’s neck and scratched at the bristles on his head. Zayn’s hips grinded forward, his half hard cock pressing against Liam’s thigh, and when Liam groaned, Zayn forgot about everything else and moved his hand down to palm Liam through his sweats. 

“Fuck yes.” It was more of a hiss than anything else, but Zayn was quickly slipping, his mind getting fuzzy as he curved his hand around the length of Liam’s cock. 

Everything turned slightly desperate then, Liam pulling his head back with a tug on his hair to suck marks into his throat. He’d just started wiggling his fingers down Liam’s sweats when the door slid open and Louis’ voice rang out clear in the still night. 

“Are you two fucking serious? I’m glad you’re shagging, I am, but at _least_ do it inside, fuckin’ hell.” 

The door slid shut again and Zayn’s hand froze as he panted heavily, nudging his nose against Liam’s to try and goad him into kissing him again. When they just kept panting into each other’s mouths, he moved his hands to wrap around Liam’s back, resting his head on his shoulder to breath him in. Liam’s fingers were still desperate, clenching rhythmically, and he kept Zayn close to him when he tried to step back. With a flick of his wrist, their cigarettes flew back to their lips, and Zayn was careful not to burn either of them. He shifted back slightly, staying in the circle of Liam’s arms, and watched happily as Liam took a drag from the cigarette as it hovered in the air, not even questioning it. 

“What do we all feel like to you? Like, our emotions. Is there a constant kind of thing, or not really?”

Well fuck. He hadn’t been expecting _that_, and Zayn didn’t think Liam understood how intimate the question was. It seemed to be the perfect time though, pressed up against each other, smoking close enough to share small kisses in between drags, desire still twisting the air viciously between them. 

“Well, Harry feels a _lot_. He usually feels like,” Zayn hesitated to think of the right word as Liam put out their cigarettes, “I mean, everything always seems to be a bit tangled, like he’s not sure of what he feels a lot of the time. He just cares so much, you know?”

Liam huffed out a small laugh, nosing at Zayn’s temple. “Sounds like Harry. Niall?”

“Solid.” It was a quick response, and Zayn shook his head when he realised it didn’t make sense. “I just mean like, he always tends to have a dominant emotion, almost always positive. Even when he’s worried or somethin’, there’s always a positivity that comes through. I love being around him,” he admitted, pressing his nose into Liam’s neck and kissing the skin at the hinge of his jaw. 

“I’m a bit afraid to ask, but Tommo?” 

“I’m keeping a lot about Lou to my chest,” he warned, and Liam shot him a look that seemed to say _obviously, I expect you too_. “He keeps things in until they get too much, but he _feels_ more than anyone.” He went quiet, waiting for the question he knew was coming, and he needed to prepare himself for it. When Liam spoke next though, it wasn’t what he was expecting.

“It makes sense, you know. You, with all these powers, especially the emotional stuff.”

Okay then.

“What do you mean?” Zayn was confused, but he hid it in the kiss he pressed to the corner of Liam’s mouth. ‘

“People always think that you’re standoffish, or that you don’t really feel all that much.” Zayn did know that, had spoken with Liam and Lou about it enough to know that’s how people saw him; slightly cold and calculated. It didn’t bother him. “But I’ve always known _how_ you really feel things, how you love so fiercely, how protective and kind you are.” Liam tilted his chin to look him in the eye. “Turns out I was right. It’s all because you feel _too much_, all the time, from everyone around you. You’re brilliant.”

“‘m not.” Zayn was quiet, his eyes downcast, but Liam wouldn’t let him get away with it. 

Liam’s grip on his chin tightened. “Zayn, look at me.” The slightly commanding tone had Zayn’s eyes snapping up. “You’re perfect. In everything you do, and in everything you _are_.” 

There were suddenly tears welling in Zayn’s eyes that he couldn’t understand, but it didn’t matter, because Liam could. He ran his hands gently over Zayn’s face, his fingertips seeming to memorise everything about his features. Zayn exhaled shakily, his hands gripping tightly onto Liam wherever he could reach, and just before Zayn could blurt out that he loved Liam, that he always had, Liam asked one more question. 

“What do I feel like?”

Zayn wasn’t expecting it _now_, and the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could control them. 

“Everything. You feel like everything good,” Zayn whispered, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together. “I always know it’s you when you walk into a room, even if it’s a crowded bar because you feel like warmth, and affection, and safety, and everything I’ll ever need.” Zayn choked on a sob, and when he realised Liam’s eyes were swimming with tears, he reached up to wrap his hands around Liam’s wrists. “You feel like sunshine, like every good thing that could ever happen to me is pouring into my soul and travelling through my entire body. You feel like _home_, Liam. You feel like my home.” 

Liam’s voice was shaky when he responded with a wet laugh, his hands holding Zayn’s face so tightly he thought he might pop. “Warmth isn’t an emotion.”

But Zayn was just as quick. 

“It is with you. Somehow, it is.”

And then they stayed like that, eyes closed, clutching each other with their foreheads together until the other boys came and pulled them inside. Zayn’s stomach was twisting, his heart pounding in his chest, and he knew that this was it, the moment he’d always wanted when he’d dreamed of Liam and him finally getting together. 

They stumbled to Liam’s room, ignoring the others as they said something about going to stay at Louis and Zayn’s place, but Zayn could hardly hear anything outside the rushing in his ears. His fingers were tangled with Liam’s, and the want that’d enveloped them before had never really left. Now, when Zayn dropped his shield, he felt it swirl up to cover them in a heady fog, and he let himself be pushed up against the wall and kissed. 

The lads were talking and laughing, teasing words being thrown at them, but then the door slammed as they left, and Zayn reeled his emotions back in. Liam’s mouth was kissing softly down his neck before Zayn was even convinced they were actually alone, and he was pliant enough that he didn’t think before he said it, felt safe and loved and needed to be taken care of - 

“_Daddy._” 

There was a groan from Liam, a bite to his jaw, and a hand dropping to wrap around his cock through his jeans before it got too much, and Zayn had to grasp onto everything he was feeling before he pushed it out into the room. He hadn’t felt this out of control since he was a kid, when he used to accidentally let everything seep out and affect everyone in a space. Right now, he was struggling. He was used to being overwhelmed by everyone else’s emotions, by the sheer onslaught from a crowd of people, but he’d never been this incoherent with his own. He threw his shield back up to steady himself, a frustrated noise leaving his throat when it didn’t lessen his need for the man in front of him.

“_Li, _please, oh God.”

“Alright love, c’mon, I’ll look after you.”

Liam had apparently had enough. Suddenly he was being hoisted up into Liam’s arms in swift movements, hands wrapping tight around his thighs. 

“Are you just going to carry me _everywhere_ from now on? This is like, the third time in two days.” He wrapped his legs around Liam’s waist with a startled grunt as he was ignored, and as he was being carried to the bedroom he realised he was definitely going to be embarrassed about it tomorrow. 

Right now though, everything was hazy around the edges, his mind slipping down easily as Liam whispered how gorgeous he was, digging his nails into Zayn’s thigh, squeezing Zayn’s arse before he threw him on the bed. Zayn didn’t have any time to collect his thoughts before Liam’s body was covering his, a solid, comforting weight. Zayn surged up to kiss him, a hot slide of wet tongues and clacking teeth in his impatience, and he carded his fingers through Liam’s hair when he pulled back and rested their foreheads together. 

“Baby, we need to have a chat, okay? Just a quick one, we’ll have a proper one later, but just a chat and then I’ll give you what you need.” 

Liam looked _filthy _already, pupils blown, cheeks flushed, his lips wet as he panted slightly. He looked like he was struggling to calm down, but Zayn didn’t want him in control. He wanted him swearing and groaning, desperate and dominating. He rolled his hips lightly, moaning at the friction from Liam’s thigh wedged between his legs. Zayn didn’t _want _to talk, didn’t _want_ to have to wait. He whined, knowing he sounded like a brat, but when Liam’s hand pulled harshly on his hair he stopped, breathing heavily through his nose as he willed himself to stay still. 

“Yeah, yeah alright.” Zayn’s voice was heavy, his accent thicker when he spoke.

“Good boy.”

The pleasure that’d been lapping gently at his skin intensified, a burning crackle racing down his spine to end where he was already hard and desperate. 

“_Leeyum_.” The word was almost dragged out of him, syrupy and sweet on his tongue. Zayn let his hands roam over Liam’s back, sighing at the strength there as his fingers snaked under his shirt to drew dull lines against his skin. “Need you.”

A quiet moan, a quick suck on a lower lip. “Need you too, love.”

He closed his eyes and let himself bask in Liam’s touch, feel the physical rush rather than the emotional turmoil he usually suffered through. Fingers slid out of his hair, gently skating down his cheek and neck, running over Zayn’s skin in a careful tease that made his body twitch. A shaky breath left his parted lips as Liam’s hand travelled down his chest and crept up under his shirt, the hot feeling of skin on skin distracting him from the way his wrists were now gathered above his head. He arched into Liam’s chest when he pulled back slightly to speak.

“Zayn, love, c’mon. Focus, yeah?” Liam moved both hands to cup Zayn’s face, and Zayn left his hands where they were as he melted into the mattress. He felt warm and serene, pliant underneath Liam as he whispered sweetly to him, and Zayn blinked the fog away to nod slowly. “That’s it, just for a minute, so gorgeous.” 

”What s’it?” Zayn’s voice was soft, and he felt pleasantly floaty. He didn’t want to have a serious talk.

“What are your hard reds, baby?” Liam’s face was serious as his thumbs stroked Zayn’s face, his eyes open and loving, and Zayn was once again incredibly grateful he’d put his trust in the right person. 

“Name calling. Slapping across the face. Knife play. I love being tied up, but I have to have my mouth free from any bonds. Fingers or a dick is fine, just not a cloth or summat.” Zayn craned his neck slightly to rub their noses together, pressing their lips together quickly. “I don’t like derogatory names. Hate it, yeah?” 

Liam’s voice was shaking slightly when he spoke, but his hand was steady as it pulled down Zayn’s bottom lip. Zayn watched through heavy eyes, his cock hard and heat throbbing through him as Liam leant forward to replace his thumb with his mouth. “I know, love. I’ve got you.”

Zayn knew that he did without the reassurance, but it still wrapped around him, comforting and sweet. 

“Liam,” Zayn whispered, his hands falling to tug on Liam’s shirt and pull it over his head. He ran searching fingers over Liam’s chest, soft skin and hard muscle. “Tell me what you want, what you like, please.” 

Liam hovered over Zayn’s body on his forearms, pressing a searing kiss to his lips that made Zayn groan. “Bondage and sensory work is my favourite. Overstimulation,” Liam nipped at Zayn’s lip. “Love to see someone like that. Love spanking too. Can’t wait to see your gorgeous bum red and sore.”

Zayn groaned and twisted his hands together, holding onto the headboard as he pushed his hips up. “_Fuck_ yes. Paddle? Flogger?”

“Neither.” Liam’s hand slid up the length of Zayn’s body, thumbing at his nipple and digging into his outstretched arm before he gripped his wrists tightly, and Zayn’s whole body shuddered. “Much prefer using my hands. Safe word?” 

“Icarus,” Zayn breathed, flexing his wrists against Liam’s hold and feeling his cock twitch when he couldn’t move.

Liam laughed softly, and Zayn couldn’t help but grin back. “Icarus, huh? God baby, being so good for me darling, look at you,” Liam said gently, leaning back to run scorching eyes down Zayn’s body. 

The praise flowed through his body, warming him in every darkened corner. Zayn’s mind was hazy, but he was aware enough to realise he’d waited too long. “Liam, _please,_ fuck me.”

He tried to pay attention as Liam undressed him, but by the time they were both naked, his hands were still pressed to the bed, and he was leaking precum. He could feel it beading at the tip, and he was desperate for relief, for something, anything, and then Liam covered his body again and kissed him. 

He seemed content to take his time, lazily flicking his tongue forward to pry Zayn’s lips open, exploring his mouth as Zayn whimpered and squirmed underneath him. Liam grabbed a fistful of Zayn’s hair where he was resting on his elbow, tugging his head back to fuck his mouth with his tongue, but Zayn was impatient. 

He was grinding up against Liam’s body, small noises leaving the back of his throat, but when Liam moved with him and denied him the pressure he craved, he choked on a sob. 

“Liam, please, I can’t take this anymore.” He launched up to mark Liam’s shoulder with his mouth, tasting salt and skin and _Liam._ “Fuck me, _please.”_

“Please what, baby?”

Zayn didn’t understand, could only focus on Liam shifting to brush his fingertips over Zayn’s body. He skimmed a nipple as Zayn gasped, followed the path with his lips until his fingers were skating down Zayn’s thighs and Liam was ducking his head to avoid Zayn’s erection as he sucked bruises into Zayn’s skin. 

“Please _what_, darling?” Liam repeated, and Zayn cried out when suddenly, the only contact he had was Liam’s hands holding his hips steady. “Be still.”

Zayn was too dizzy to focus, and when he realised Liam had pressed two fingers to his lips, his jaw dropped open with a happy whine. He sucked them into his mouth, closing his eyes at the feeling of a part of him being full, hips trying not to jerk up through Liam’s grip where bruises were definitely forming. 

“Come on darling, please what?” Liam slowly fucked his fingers across Zayn’s tongue, groaning when Zayn sucked hard. He slid them out with a wet pop, chuckling when Zayn chased after them with his tongue. 

“Please fuck me,” Zayn begged again, shifting in his desperation, but immediately realising his mistake when Liam’s hand came down hard on his thigh. He let out a strangled yell, his cock blurting out more precome, and he heard Liam groan again. 

“I will love, but what do you call me?”

Then it clicked. 

“_Daddy_, please fuck me, daddy _please_.” 

Another low moan from Liam seemed to echo through the room, and Zayn stretched his body further as he tightened his grip around the wooden frame. Liam trailed light kisses from Zayn’s knee to the base of his cock, his tongue flicking out to drag along Zayn’s skin and make him tremble. 

“So lovely, you are. Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” Liam’s tongue ran up the vein on the underside of his cock, and Zayn couldn’t hold in the whimper. “That’s it baby, want to hear you. Be good for Daddy.”

And then all Zayn felt was wet, tight heat as Liam slid his mouth over the head, sucking for a moment before he pulled off. Zayn spasmed at the sharp contrast, his hands flying down to tangle in Liam’s hair, but then Liam was pulling back completely and getting off the bed. 

“I told you to be still, Zayn.”

Zayn let out a sound of protest, his eyes fluttering open as he reached out for him, and his breath caught in his throat when he finally got a chance to look at him. Liam was _stunning_, broad shoulders and tan skin, tattoos stark against it, his eyes wild and his cock hard and heavy. Zayn was too busy staring at him to notice he was moving, ducking and searching for something, and by the time he crawled back onto the bed, Zayn realised he had a length of rope. He whimpered and moved his hands back up to the headboard, laying one wrist over the other as he arched his back. He heard Liam gasp and he preened when Liam’s empty hand ran firmly all the way from his hip to his wrists. 

“God, you’re perfect, Zayn. So beautifully submissive, sweetheart.” Liam held the rope up, and Zayn could see it was soft, knew the red would look good against his skin. “What’s your colour?”

“Green, so green.” Zayn craned his neck to press their lips together, sighing and sinking back down when Liam’s tongue pushed into his mouth. 

Zayn laid perfectly still as Liam looped the rope around his wrists in what felt a series of intricate knots. He was throbbing, felt like he was about to burst out of his skin, and the buzzing at the back of his head from the last few days was delightfully absent. He tilted his head back and opened his eyes wide, humming when Liam looked down quickly and smiled. 

“Hey gorgeous,” Liam murmured, tugging on the rope as he tied Zayn’s wrists to the headboard. “How are you feeling?”

Zayn smiled back, a small, soft thing, and tugged at the rope. It was brilliantly done, just enough slack but not enough that he could break out. He shivered at the thought, and felt his mind grow foggier. “‘m good. Fuzzy. Safe. Want you.”

“I want you too, love. Let me take the edge off, you can come whenever you like.” And Liam’s hands were on his hips pressing him down just as his lips slid back down the length of Zayn’s cock. 

_Fuck. _Zayn was suddenly grateful that Liam had told him he could come whenever he was ready. He felt like he’d been close for the whole day, everything building up inside him as his mind went blank, and when Liam circled his tongue around the head and fondled his balls, moving down to suck _hard_, Zayn couldn’t hold in the shout that left his mouth. 

He risked a glance down at Liam; he looked _obscene_, dilated pupils, his lips stretched and pink where he swallowed Zayn down, and Zayn tried to pull his wrists down with a whine. It pushed him until he was dangling on the edge, so close he could taste it as Liam sucked him perfectly.

“_Daddy,_ oh fuck - I’m gonna - _Daddy,_ please,” Zayn sobbed, crying out when Liam ghosted a spit slick finger over his hole. 

Liam pulled off panting, his finger rubbing small circles. When he spoke, it sounded more like a growl than anything else, and Zayn arched up harshly, taut and tense. 

“Doing so well baby, come for me.” Liam ducked back down and sucked him down the back of his throat.

Zayn moaned, cutting himself off with a cry as he fell over the edge, and came in Liam’s mouth. Everything was blinding, he felt a rush of emotions from seemingly everywhere, and then everything was perfect. He twitched as he came down, Liam still suckling on the sensitive head as he swallowed, and then everything went brilliantly hazy, and his mind was blank.

_Oh. There it is._

All he felt was relief, warm and safe as Liam pressed kisses up his body. He made a soft noise when lips took his in a firm kiss, sinking bonelessly into the bed when he could taste himself on Liam’s tongue. He could feel Liam, hard and not, against his thigh, and he shifted to press up against him. Even though he’d just come, he still wanted _more_, wanted whatever he could have from Liam. 

Gentle hands were cupping his face, thumbs stroking soothingly over his cheekbones, and Zayn sighed happily when Liam kissed his eyelids.

“Look at me please baby, you with me?” Liam’s voice was soothing but strong, and Zayn blinked his eyes open to the soft light of the room. 

Liam smiled softly at him, tracing his thumb over Zayn’s bottom lip, nostrils flaring slightly when Zayn followed it with his tongue. Zayn knew how he looked; relaxed and pliant against the sheets, flushed from head to toe, half hard even though he’d just come, and his eyes glazed over. Liam seemed to be in awe, and Zayn’s heart skipped at the attention. 

“There you are, god look at you. So beautiful Zayn, so incredible that I get to see you like this.”

Zayn was speaking before Liam had even finished his sentence. “More, please.” 

He heard a groan, and then Liam was kissing him harshly, sucking Zayn’s lower lip into his mouth as his hands pushed Zayn’s legs further apart. He moved quickly down Zayn’s body to settle between his legs, and Zayn heard a small _snick _of what was unmistakably a bottle of lube. He didn’t care at all where Liam had pulled it from, just planted his feet on the bed and pushed his hips up. 

A slick finger teased at his rim as Liam pressed a delicate kiss to his thigh. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you.” It wasn’t a question, so Zayn ignored it and tried to focus on his breathing. Liam always made him feel _so much_, but here, it was downright overwhelming, regardless of how floaty he felt. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you, those sharp cheekbones and pouty lips and eyes that felt like they were studying me.” Liam paused to slowly press his finger into him, and Zayn cried out even when he continued with a soft laugh. “Looking back, you probably were. I’ve _always_ wanted you Zayn, always wanted anything you’ll let me have, and now I can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to get to see you like this,” Liam choked out, and Zayn answered with his own sob when Liam fucked his finger in slowly. 

“Liam, _god Li,” _Zayn whimpered, the slow drag of Liam’s finger inside him making him twitch with the need for _more._

Liam swore under his breath as he tucked a second finger in beside the first, fucking them back in Zayn’s body with a wet sound. Zayn’s whole world seemed to be centred around Liam’s fingers inside him as they moved faster, brushing against his prostate in a way that made his body jolt and his cock jerk. He was already hard again, and between Liam’s mouth on his hipbone and his intense concentration, his arousal was fanning higher. Liam seemed to have realised he’d found it, that intoxicating bundle of nerves that sent liquid flames through Zayn’s body as he moved his fingers, getting Zayn ready for his cock. It was _heady _and _so much_ and Zayn just needed to be fucked now. 

“You’re doing so well for me, love, takin’ my fingers so well,” Liam said gruffly, and Zayn moaned, yanking against his restraints when Liam added a third finger, pushing them in roughly as Zayn opened up for him, rubbing small on his prostate. “Can’t wait to see how you take Daddy’s cock, baby.”

Fuck, Zayn was going to come again. He let it build, welcomed the familiar feeling, but just as he was about to let go, Liam stopped. Zayn whimpered, looking down at Liam with pleading eyes, his thighs shaking and red from Liam’s stubble. He couldn’t string a proper sentence together, but he knew that Liam would take care of him. 

“I was gonna get you to come again before I fucked you, but you feel _incredible_,” Liam breathed out, his eyes focused on where his fingers were moving inside Zayn and making him squirm under the scrutiny. “So tight, and hot, and _stunning_, baby. Can I fuck you?”

Zayn was already nodding, but his answer blurted out anyway. “Yes, green, so green,” he slurred, pleased when Liam pulled away to put a condom on and slick himself up. 

He was suddenly desperate to touch Liam, to dig his nails into Liam’s back, feel his muscles move as he finally gave Zayn what he’d always wanted. 

But there was no time to dwell on it when Liam was kneeling between his thighs, and slowly pushing into him. Zayn exhaled sharply at the stretch, almost too much, a slight sting but _addictive,_ contentment washing over him. He moaned, throwing his head back as Liam bottomed out, and then all he could feel was _full_, gorgeously so. Liam’s lips were suddenly at his neck, his hand gripping Zayn’s thigh tight to wrap around his waist, and before Zayn could open his mouth to beg Liam to just _move_, he was drawing out smoothly and thrusting back in, hard. 

He set a brutal pace from the start, fast and deep and hitting places inside Zayn that he didn’t even know existed. All Zayn could do was hold onto the headboard, his mouth dropped open in a constant stream of noises as Liam groaned into his throat, sucking the skin into his mouth as he left wanted bruises all over Zayn’s body.

“Fuck, _Li,_ I - please don’t stop, fuck.” 

Zayn tried to move his hips to match Liam’s pace, but he was too languid and foggy, and Liam just held his hips down tightly to fuck into him properly. Just as Zayn realised he was close to coming again, he clenched around Liam, long and thick inside him, and Liam pulled out gently with a stuttered curse. 

“I’m gonna untie you, alright love?” 

There were gentle hands at his wrists, untying the rope and throwing it aside to massage his wrists softly. Zayn hummed happily when Liam lifted his arms to press careful kisses against his wrists, a worried sound leaving his lips to rumble across Zayn’s skin. There was hardly anything there, the soft ropes doing their job, but then Liam was massaging his arms gently and kissing him softly on the mouth. 

“Still with me?” At Zayn’s dazed nod, he continued. “Being so good for me, so good for Daddy. Turn over for me love, up on your hands and knees.”

Zayn panted slightly, twisting over in a rush to arch his back and wiggle his arse towards Liam. He smirked when he heard Liam swear, but then strong hands were moving firmly down his spine to thumb open his cheeks. The hard spank surprised him, and he dropped his forehead to the bed with a cry, relishing in the burn. 

“Just a warning for now. Don’t tease me, Zayn,” Liam said sternly, and Zayn’s cock jerked. “I’m gonna fuck you again, love. Colour?” 

“_Green._”

And then Zayn was overwhelmed again, the hard press of Liam’s cock inside him making him shiver, one of Liam’s hands rubbing over the swell of his arse as he started to move, the other running up and down his spine. He was thrusting slowly, long deep strokes that had Zayn pulling his lip into his teeth, angling Zayn’s hips to brush against his prostate on every thrust. When Liam started rolling his hips faster, Zayn moved his head to press his cheek against the sheets, clenching the material with his fists while Liam moved inside him. 

It was everything he’d known it would be, but still _more_. Liam was touching him everywhere, whispering sweet words of praise and affection with every thrust, fucking him so beautifully that Zayn knew he was ruined for everyone else. He tried to get back up on his hands to meet the push of Liam’s hips, but then there was a hand in his hair, and he was being tugged up and backwards. He shifted on his knees, settling onto Liam’s lap and choking out a moan as it pushed Liam in deeper, trembling at the way his back fit so perfectly to Liam’s chest. There was a harsh tug at his hair, his mouth falling open as he tightened around Liam’s cock and rested his head back on Liam’s shoulder. 

Zayn let himself bask in the warm sense of intimacy this position created; Liam’s mouth was at his neck pressing soft kisses and quick nips, one arm wrapped around Zayn’s stomach to anchor him as he waited for Zayn to adjust. His legs were spread wide over Liam’s lap, and he had a sudden thought that he wished there was a mirror so he could see how dishevelled and wrecked he was. He looked down and saw Liam’s tattoos pressing against his skin, and it seemed to just drive home the fact that this was _Liam,_ _his_ Liam, and fuck, he’d never loved him more. He let himself sink further into his headspace, cottony and warm, knowing Liam was there to catch him.

“Colour, baby?” Liam’s breath was hot against his ear, and the groan he let out made Zayn’s stomach swoop.

A slow thrust up, and Zayn’s legs were already shaking. “Green, Daddy. Want it like this.”

“‘ve got you.”

This time, Liam’s pace was slow and _perfect_, heavy drags across Zayn’s prostate as he buried his face in Zayn’s neck. Zayn felt lost, but still the safest he’d ever been, a complete contradiction that he’d happily live with. Between Liam inside him and whispering in his ear - _incredible Zayn, so beautiful, always knew you’d take my cock like this -, _and Liam’s hands keeping him steady and upright, he never had a chance. 

“‘m close, wanna come, please.” Zayn turned his head to capture Liam’s mouth in a filthy kiss, teeth clacking and tongues sloppy, and when Liam sped up his hips, fucking Zayn from underneath him, Zayn arched his back with a sigh, his words slurring at the pleasure running through his body and collecting at his groin. “Fuck yes, _please._”

A guttural moan left Liam’s mouth, hot air fanning over Zayn’s skin. “Yeah? You can come like this, untouched?”

He’d only done it once before, years ago, but there was no denying it now. “Yeah, yeah, don’t stop.”

Liam was panting, mouthing at his neck. “You can come, Zayn. Now.” 

And then Liam’s hand was wrapping around Zayn’s throat, tilting his head back and squeezing, and Zayn was coming so hard he almost blacked out. He knew he was being loud, convulsing in Liam’s arms as white strips of cum landed heavily on the duvet, but he felt detached, like he was floating as Liam tightened his grip and fucked up faster. 

Zayn could just make out what Liam was saying as he came down, could _just_ hear the ‘_want to be with you all the time Zayn, want you all the time, so perfect for me, so beautiful’_ before Liam was slamming into him one last time. He gripped Zayn’s hips and pulled him down, grinding up into him as he moaned into Zayn’s hair, throbbing inside him until they both fell to the side, Zayn protectively held in Liam’s arms. 

Zayn felt _free_ almost, his mind pleasantly blank and his body sated. He winced slightly when Liam pulled out slowly, but he let him turn him around so they were face to face, noses brushing against each other as they panted and Zayn waited for his heartbeat to slow. He burrowed forward into Liam’s chest, a happy noise slipping past his lips when Liam ran a firm hand down his sweaty back and pressed kisses to his temple and face.

“You were perfect, baby, so good for me,” Liam whispered, running his hand through Zayn’s hair and massaging his scalp. “Amazing love, everything I’ve ever wanted. I just have to go get us some things, okay love? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Zayn didn’t want him to leave, wanted to stay wrapped up with Liam forever, be held and kissed until they were old and grey. He protested quietly when Liam shifted to stand, his arms heavy when he tried to lift them, but then a hand was cupping his cheek, and he settled back into the bed with a soft sound. 

“I’ll be right back love, okay?” Liam pressed a soft kiss to his lips just as his eyes fluttered closed, and by the time he’d returned, Zayn was half asleep.

He felt Liam cleaning him up with a damp cloth, remembered Liam coaxing him to drink and eat small bites of crackers. He was aware enough to hear Liam’s whispered and constant loving words, and as soon as Liam dragged him to curl up onto his chest, Zayn was asleep. 

*****

When Zayn woke up, the first thing he registered was the pleasant soreness in his body as he stretched, blinking open his eyes and grinning when he remembered where he was. 

The second was that something felt odd in the room, his brain going into overdrive trying to pick up something that didn’t seem to be there. 

Third, that waking up in Liam’s bed was quickly becoming routine, which led him to his fourth and final realisation. 

Liam wasn’t there. 

He frowned, climbing out of bed and getting dressed to search the rest of the flat for him, but when he couldn’t find him anywhere, he still had to convince himself not to panic. Liam could be anywhere; he probably had class or had popped down to get some food. There was no point worrying about something that there was no evidence for. 

Zayn tried to call him just in case, heading out to the balcony, a cigarette trailing behind him. He listened to the dial tone and then the voicemail, biting his thumb nail in between drags. The glass door opened behind him, but he could tell straight away that it was Louis.

“No class today?”

Zayn exhaled, watching the smoke as it got caught in the wind. “Yeah, but Paul won’t let me leave the house,” he chuckled, snapping his fingers to light Louis’ cigarette. 

“Ah, fair call. Was Payno alright this morning? Seemed pretty weird when he left. Doesn’t even have classes today.”

Zayn froze, his eyes following a man across the street as he walked his husky through the small park. “I haven’t seen him all day, he left before I woke up. How was he weird?” He tilted slightly to look at Louis, and the troubled look in his eyes matched perfectly with the concern and slight panic now thudding through the air. 

“Hard to explain, mate. He just, seemed almost standoffish? A bit cold,” Louis explained, flicking the ash off his cigarette, “which isn’t like him at all. He was all stiff, and proper weird. How was he last night?”

_Perfect_, Zayn’s brain supplied unhelpfully. He shook his head to clear it before he answered properly. 

“He was brilliant, same as always. Affectionate, caring, sweet. I - I don’t know what’s changed.” Except that he _did _know, and obviously Liam regretted it all now, realised he’d gone too far and had no way to come back. Surely though, Zayn hadn’t imagined the tenderness Liam had shown, the fierceness in which he took care of him, the whispered words of what sounded like love. “He’s ignoring my calls.”

Louis’ head snapped up, cigarette in between his lips, and raised his eyebrow. “That doesn’t make any sense, he never ignores you. He’s probably just having a right snit over something random, it’ll be alright babe.”

Zayn nodded distractedly, putting out his smoke and immediately lighting a new one that had sailed happily through the door he’d opened with a flick of his wrist. He could feel the worry from Louis, but it seemed to diminish when he reached out and tugged him into his side, a loose arm around his shoulders. 

“Yeah. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

He was just about to ask Louis about Harry when his phone rang, and his heart leapt into his throat. It smacked into his hand with a wriggle of his fingers, but he sighed when he realised it was just Paul. 

“Wassup?”

_“Yeah, good morning to you too, arsehole. Just wanted to give you a quick update on mystery man.”_

Zayn snorted, waving to Louis with a quick raise of his hand when Louis ducked back inside. “Sorry, just preoccupied. What’s up? Find anything yet?”

A heavy sigh. _“No, and we’ve exhausted all avenues. None of our connections in the force seem to know anything, and neither do any of the supers. He doesn’t have any powers by the looks of it, that we can see anyway, so we can’t even track him. Do you remember anything about him, apart from the mask?”_

The silver mask he’d been wearing was the only thing they had to go on, and it was still absolutely nothing. Zayn could still see it in his mind clear as day, glossy, smooth silver metal fitted to the man’s face, simple but effective enough to cover all his features. He’d been wearing gloves, long sleeves and slacks, and the only other thing they _possibly_ had to go on was that Zayn thought he might have black hair. It wasn’t much. 

“I’m sorry, he knows what’s he doing. I don’t know where we’d even start looking.” Zayn took another heavy drag, closing his eyes as he inhaled. 

_“That’s my job, Nightwing. Yours comes afterwards.” _

Zayn exhaled slowly, leaning against the rail to peer out over the street. “We could set up a trap, lure him into something.”

_“Absolutely not.”_ Ugh. _“Not when I have no idea what he’s capable of. You need to understand - what the fu - .” _

“Paul?” Zayn froze when he heard yelling in the background and frantic voices. “Paul!”

Zayn’s heart was pounding in his chest, the cigarette dangling limply from his fingers, forgotten. If this _arsehole_ had gotten into the compound, there was no way for Zayn to get there fast enough, no way for him to _help._ There was a scuffle, a loud swear, and then Paul was back, panting as he seemed to be running as he spoke. 

_“Zayn think we just found something. Get down here as soon as possible.”_

A click, and Paul was gone. Zayn blinked at the phone in his hand before he stubbed out his cigarette and went inside. Okay, it couldn’t be _that_ bad. It obviously wasn’t fucking good though. Zayn let his mind run through a number of possibilities until he shook himself, cursing as he stuffed his phone in his pocket and darted back inside. 

“Keys, keys, keys,” he mumbled as he frantically rushed around the apartment. 

Louis and Harry were sitting on the couch, happily wrapped up in each other, but he didn’t have time for _that_ right now. He threw up his shield to dodge the love rising up from them both before it could settle in his bones. He finally found his keys in Liam’s room, pulling them from under the bed where there’d somehow ended up, and when he ducked back into the living room to say goodbye, he froze, hand in his pocket where he was shoving his keys. 

“Li.” He stepped forward, a small smile on his lips, but it quickly vanished when Liam didn’t move, or even say anything. “Liam?” He hated how hesitant his voice was, but he’d never seen him like this, cold and unmoving, hands together in front of him, shoulder’s back. “Is - is everything okay?”

“You lied to me.”

It was enough to make Zayn stagger backwards a step, the gasp from the sofa seeming distant. There was suddenly a pounding in his head, and his fingers felt hot. He tried desperately to wrack his brain for he could’ve possibly lied about; was Liam just upset that Zayn had never told him about his powers? It didn’t make sense, nothing made sense.

“I don’t understand,” Zayn whispered, wringing his hands in front of him, closing his eyes to stop the race of fire through his body before it manifested in his hands. “I - you said you were okay with me not saying anything, I thought you understood.”

Liam’s voice held no warmth or emotion when he spoke. “You manipulated me. You made me feel things for you that weren’t there.” Liam stepped forward, his eyes blank and cold, and Zayn took another step back. “You’ve always wanted me, so you used your powers to get what you wanted.”

Tears sprang instantly to Zayn’s eyes as his breathing grew more rapid. There wasn’t enough _air,_ there _wasn’t_. Fuck, no, surely this wasn’t happening. He squeezed his eyes shut, his next breath leaving him in a heavy sob that he couldn’t hold back. He saw Louis and Harry rise up from the sofa, slow and cautious, but Liam didn’t even spare them a glance. 

“_No, _Liam, I would never do that to you!” Zayn would’ve scolded himself over how desperate he sounded, but he didn’t even understand what was _happening_. “I never - I told you I never did that, to any of you, you know I never would Liam, please.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he flicked his eyes up. “You know me better than anyone, I would never do that to you.”

There was no smile on Liam’s face, no small crinkles at his eyes. “I have absolutely no reason to trust you after what you’ve done.”

“Oh my - _fuck_.” Zayn choked, dropping his shield to concentrate his energy on keeping the flames inside. 

Everything was _wrong_; what the fuck had happened since last night? There was a ringing in his ears, a pounding in his chest, a frantic sense of _something_ that fizzled angrily under his skin. The fire inside subsided slightly, and he was suddenly swimming in Louis and Harry’s anger and concern, their frantic worry and sadness wrapping around his skin. He could hear Louis yelling at Liam, see Harry holding him back, and then it hit him. 

He couldn’t feel Liam. 

It’d _never_ happened before, and he realised that he should’ve picked up on it as soon as he saw him in the living room. Zayn always knew the second that Liam walked into a room because his emotions almost preceded him, soaked into Zayn in a way no one else did. He hadn’t even realised he was in the house. He glanced up, pushing deeper into Liam’s mind to find _something_, but there was nothing there. 

Nothing. 

Louis was still yelling in the background - ‘_and I can’t fuckin’ believe you, comin’ in here and sayin’ shit like that’_ -, and Harry was still holding him back with an arm around his shoulders, but Liam was still stiff and unmoving. In all the time he’d known Liam, after all the time he’d spent watching him fondly, or arguing over comic books, or laughing with him when Louis lost at FIFA, he’d _never_ seen Liam so detached. It was incredibly disconcerting, and all Zayn wanted to do was fling himself into Liam’s arms and stay there forever, bring him back from whatever he was feeling or whatever had caused this. 

Zayn was staring at him, his fists clenched at his sides, willing him to just _look_ at him. _Fuck Li, just look at me, please. Let me in, please, I don’t know how to do this._ He barely registered Niall coming into the room with a sound of alarm, but he did notice when he came to stand in front of him, a careful hand on his shoulder and a shot of concern burrowing into his soul. 

“Zayn, Zaynie,” Niall urged, shaking him slightly, “tell me what’s going on, what’s wrong? You don’t look well, mate.”

“I can’t feel him.” It was a whisper, barely noticeable over the roar of Louis’ voice.

“What d’ya mean?”

Zayn closed his eyes and choked out a sob. “I can’t _feel_ him Niall, his emotions, there’s nothing _there._ This has never happened to me before, I don’t know what to do.” He was shaking, his mind moving too quickly to make sense of anything, but every time he tried to burrow into Liam’s mind to find a _sliver_ of something, he had to pull back, crying at the energy and effort it was taking for no result.

Louis spun around at the words, letting Harry visibly exhale in relief, even though he shot Liam a cold glare. Liam was staring at Louis, head cocked slightly to the side, small smirk on his face, and it made Zayn cold.

“Li please, I can always feel you, I told you last night that you feel like - like _home_,” Zayn sniffled, trying to step forward but Niall swore softly, and his hand held Zayn back gently. “I know something’s wrong because I can’t feel _anything_, it’s like you’re _blank_. Last night was --” he wiped desperately at his face to get rid of the tears, Paul and his problems forgotten. “Please don’t do this Liam, you told me you want me, properly, we - . Why are you doing this?”

“You _lied_ to me, Zayn. You manipulated me, and you tricked me, and I don’t even know if anything we’ve ever shared has been real.” Liam’s arms were crossed over his chest, and Zayn wanted to scream when the sight still made his heart race. Now, it just cemented the fact that his chest felt like an open wound, his heart struggling not to tear at the seams. Liam shifted on his feet, his eyes still cold as they locked onto Zayn’s. “I can’t ever trust you again, I’ll never know if what I feel around you is real. We’re done, I want you out of my life.”

Silence. Everything was empty, cold, terrifying. The words replayed over and over in his head, cutting deeper with every repeat, and Zayn could barely register Niall shaking his head, Louis with his hands over his mouth, the silent tear trailing down Harry’s cheek. 

He tried once more, used all of his energy to try and pull something, _anything_ out of him. And then he felt it. A tiny _tick_, a small nudge at Zayn’s powers that made him gasp. His eyes widened, but when he looked up, Liam still looked the same. 

“Liam. I love you, I’m in love with you.”

_There_. A flash of..._something_ in Liam’s eyes that softened everything, a clash of pain, fear, love, and anguish slamming into him so fast it made him choke. 

And just like that, in the blink of an eye, it was gone. 

“_Leeyum_.” 

“That’s not my problem anymore.”

Everything happened just as Zayn’s heart finally shattered. Louis swore and swung out just as Harry caught him around the waist to stop him. Niall took a step forward, right in front of Zayn as if to protect him from everything. Then there was a deep, overwhelming rumble, a strange flash of light outside, and then Zayn’s entire world was moving. 

An _earthquake_? London hadn’t had an earthquake in years; of all the fucking days, honestly.

At first, no one moved, too stunned by the increased shaking of the flat, the periodic _thud _and _tink _of books, glasses, and furniture falling over and jostling. Zayn’s eyes darted up to Louis as he threw up his shield, and just as he took a step forward to move everyone back, there was a deafening noise, and suddenly the entire building was rocking back and forth. Zayn looked outside and swore, slowly moving to the balcony to look across the city. He was stumbling on his feet, trying his best to keep everything in the flat safe. 

He knew he needed to concentrate, was already catching their possessions in mid-air and letting them hover before they broke, but there was another loud _crack_, a deafening sound, and he heard the boys swearing as they lost their footing and fell. He spun around, eyes wide and matching Louis’ look of horror just as a large crack darted up the wall of the living room. 

“Fuck, _fuck_,” Zayn hissed, watching as the crack spidered into the roof and split. “Move, for fucks sake, _move.”_

The boys were directly under the section of roof that was cracking and splitting, and before they could roll away, Niall’s hand on Liam’s arm as he sat oddly still, it broke and fell. Zayn’s stomach dropped as Harry yelled, sheltering Louis from the impact with his body, and everything seemed to slow down as Zayn felt adrenaline pushing through his system. 

He threw his hand out to stop the rubble, flinging it to the side with a gentle flick of his wrist. He didn’t need the gestures, the flashiness, but sometimes it helped organise his thoughts and powers to where they needed to be. He watched in horror as small bits of ceiling still rained down, trying his best to stop it from hitting them, and when the dust had finally settled, he breathed a sigh of relief. 

They were all huddled together, scared but safe. Liam’s expression was still unmoving, as blank as before, but his hands were clenched now, and Zayn stared at him through the floating debris. He realised with a small jolt that the building had stopped moving so aggressively, just small rumbles and shakes now. 

He turned away with a soft sob, ignoring Louis as he scrambled up off the floor to join him. He walked cautiously to the balcony, the glass of the door somehow shattered, and stared in disbelief.

Absolute chaos. There were already buildings falling over in the distance, screaming people sprinting through the streets. Zayn realised with a daze that he could see people that were trapped in buildings, under rubble on the street, next to a car that was on fire just below. The park across the way was destroyed, and Zayn shook his head and swore when he saw the enormous crack in the Earth, stretching as far as he could see. What the _fuck._

“-yn, Zayn, _Zayn!” _Louis’ voice was urgent, stressed, and Zayn was glad he had his shield up. This day couldn’t get _any_ fucking worse.

He ripped his eyes away from the carnage below to look at Louis, his phone vibrating in his pocket. He didn’t really register it properly though, and it wasn’t until Louis reached out to grab him that he jolted. Zayn was pulled forward, forehead resting against Louis’, wincing as another aftershock made the entire building rattle. He heard what sounded like another car falling into the crack outside, another building toppling over, everyone screaming, a child crying. He was dizzy now, overwhelmed, and all he wanted was Liam. He glanced to his right, trying to calm his breathing, knowing the sight of him would at least settle his soul, as painful as it was. 

He wasn’t there anymore. 

Zayn started to panic, his heart racing, fingers coming up to clench in Louis’ hoodie. He felt Harry come up behind him, Niall to his right, and then were all huddling together, clinging tightly onto each other as Zayn heard sirens in the distance. 

“Hi!”

They all jumped, Zayn swearing and swinging his hand out, fire already crackling at his fingers. He was _ready_ for a fucking fight. He looked up, confused slightly as to where the voice came from, and then he saw Will, hovering in mid-air with a wide grin. 

“Fucking _hell_, Falcon.” Zayn breathed in deeply, sighing as the flames seemed to sink back into his skin. “What are you doing here?”

“Gettin’ you, you wanker. Paul’s goin’ mental. We need your help, and there’s no way you would’ve gotten there fast enough.” Will stayed hovering in the air easily before he pulled Zayn’s suit out of the backpack he had on. “C’mon, Lightning. Suit up.”

Zayn caught the suit before it smacked him in the face. He hesitated; he didn’t want to leave the boys, couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to them while he was gone. He could hear Louis and Will chatting in the background as he watched over the streets. His stomach turned when he saw a few wounded bodies, a couple more vehicles on fire. Blood and violence wasn’t something he was used to because he didn’t often have to resort to it. Not that anyone ever _really_ got used to it.

“Falcon? Bit cliché, ‘innit mate?” Louis sounded amused, but not as much as Will.

“Ah well, there’s only so many birds around, and the press isn’t overly creative. Louis, yeah? I’ve heard so much about you, and...Harry and Niall, I assume?” Will pointed at them all, wide grin still in place as he looked around curiously, waving at them with a wriggle of his fingers. Another tremor shook the building. “Zayn, can you just put the fucking suit on already? We have a deadline, Jesus. There’s literally people dying, strip off, c’mon.”

He rolled his eyes, flipping Will off as he stepped back, fingering the suit gently between his fingertips. 

“Zaynie, you go if you have to,” Louis said firmly, voice only wavering slightly as another aftershock threw them all sideways. “They all need you more than we do, go. We’ll be okay.” Louis’ hand came up to cup the back of Zayn’s neck. “We’ll go somewhere safe, we’ll try and find Liam, and everything’s gonna be alright, mate.”

“We might kick his arse when we find him, but we’ll make sure Payno’s alright,” Niall chimed in, glancing back at Will. “Hey, can you do anything else cool?”

Will raised his eyebrows. “What, the whole flying thing isn’t enough?” He rolled his eyes as Zayn laughed softly and started to get undressed. “Okay, how’s this?” 

Zayn looked away as he pulled his suit on, ignoring Niall’s gasp of surprise at what was most likely Will showing off his super speed. Fuck knows how’d he react when he found out about Will’s visions. He’d just gotten it on and he was struggling with the clasp, the material folded back somehow, when Harry stepped up behind him.

“Need a hand?” 

“Yeah, please Haz. It connects at the top, then you just need to press it in.”

He stood still, his head hanging forward, as Harry made a small noise of surprise when the suit snapped together quickly. Before he could move, Harry’s hands were running soothingly down his biceps, and then his arms were around Zayn’s shoulders, and Zayn felt briefly like he could breathe again. He leant briefly back into Harry’s chest as tattooed arms squeezed around him, one of Zayn’s hands coming to grip Harry’s wrist. 

“Thanks, Haz.”

A quick kiss to his temple. “I’m sorry, Zayn. I’m so sorry. We’ll sort it out, okay? He’ll come back around.”

Zayn blinked back the tears in his eyes, swaying in Harry’s arms as another aftershock rocked the flat. 

“I hope so,” he replied quietly, resting his cheek on Harry’s forearm as he held him tighter. “Probably got more important shit to worry about now, anyway.”

“I’m sorry mate, but we’ve gotta go. There’s at _least_ four people from here we need to help, and then we have to get back to the compound.” Will sounded apologetic, and when Zayn turned to look at him, his face was sympathetic and full of concern. 

Zayn hugged all the boys, taking solace in their words of comfort and reassurance, squeezing them tight and making them all _promise_ that they’d at least text him every half hour. By the time he’d helped Will with the victims, moving people gently or lifting rubble, and they’d flown back to the compound, Zayn was tired down to his bones. 

He walked through the doors, ignored the main floor, and headed straight for his room there. Within minutes, he’d stripped off, showered, read at least 10 texts from Niall, Louis, and Harry, and crawled into bed. Everything seemed to catch up with him all at once; the fight with Liam, his cold hazy expression, the earthquake that shattered everything and the cries of the injured as he’d lifted cars and steel beams off of them. He’d exhausted all of his energy today using his powers; keeping his shield up, sending out waves of calm to people during rescues. He could feel a physical ache now, everything hurting as he shifted.

It was nothing compared to the emotional pain. His chest felt empty, his heart completely snapped down the middle by the one person who had never hurt him before, the one person who said he never would. None of it made sense. Zayn couldn’t _understand._ Everything had seemed so perfect, almost _too_ perfect, and maybe now it was obvious why. Zayn was never meant to have that kind of happiness. He was already an outcast, shunned by society for who he really was. Maybe he _had_ influenced Liam’s emotions without meaning it; Liam was too good for him anyway, never would’ve wanted to actually be with him. 

He heard a soft knock on his door, heard Paul and Will talking, a murmur of Liam’s name as he ignored them. 

He sobbed into his pillow, clutched it tightly to his chest, and let the exhaustion overtake him.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing makes sense, until it does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to use a couple of characters from a TV show in this chapter because they wouldn't leave me alone. Technically, they're not the same people and are definitely not in the same universe.

There was a pounding at his door, a loud, abrasive sound that pulled him aggressively from his sleep. Zayn groaned, flailing as he startled and flopped around in the duvet. He rubbed at his eyes, yawning loudly until the last 24 hours slammed back into him. He buried his face in his hands, gripping onto his own hair as he exhaled shakily. 

The pounding at the door started again. 

“Zayn! C’mon Nightwing, we’ve got too much to do.” Paul’s voice was strong through the wood, and Zayn groaned as he heaved himself out of bed. 

“Alright, I’ll meet you out on the floor. Just normal clothes, yeah? Don’t need to suit up?” Zayn paused as he searched through the few items of clothing he had, his fingers fidgeting with a red Henley. 

“Just normal clothes. Most of the others are out, but I want to keep you here with me today.”

Zayn called out an affirmative as he heard Paul wander away, pulling on a black pair of ripped jeans and the Henley. He checked his phone as he sat down to shove his boots on, heart sinking quickly when there was nothing from Liam. He did have dozens of messages from the boys in their WhatsApp group, though. He stopped to scroll through them, fingers absentmindedly playing with his laces. They were all okay, having left the flat to hide out at a safety zone the city had set up. Zayn chewed on his thumb nail, hesitating before he replied.

8:32am

**Sorry, I was sleeping. Relieved to hear you’re all ok, keep me updated. Any word from Liam?**

He sat and waited, watched as he saw three of the four boys see his message, and then Louis was typing. 

8:34am

No word yet, mate. We’re still trying. Stay safe x

He sent back the same sentiment, threw in an extra few kisses, and then hovered his thumb over Liam’s contact. 

Fuck it.

The ringing seemed to mock him the longer it went on, his heart sinking further until it felt like it was at his feet. He hung up as soon as he heard Liam’s voicemail, wiping away a stray tear of frustration and finally heading down to the main floor. He smiled and waved to a few people as he strolled, hiding the heartache underneath, not stopping to talk to anyone as he threw his shield up. He didn’t need to focus on anyone else at the moment. He had enough to worry about in his own mind without the constant influx of pain, fear, and confusion he knew he’d find. 

Zayn stopped outside the sliding glass doors to press his hand against the fingerprint scanner, the whirring and beeps monotonous as it allowed him to enter. 

The expansive room was filled with screens, maps, and systems sectioned off for its purpose; recruitment, strategy, research. Everything was state of the art, brand new technology developed for them by Stark Industries and implemented at compounds around the world. Augmented reality at changed everything they did, and Zayn always had what was probably too much fun with it all. 

At the moment, everything was pure bedlam. While there weren’t as many people as usual, presumably most off helping with the earthquake, everyone who was around was either running or shaking or yelling. Bewildered, Zayn looked around for Paul, and when he found him at one of the large conference tables, he jogged over. People brushed past him, murmuring apologies as he snaked through groups quickly. He’d never seen the space so frantic; they’d never had a disaster, natural or not, quite on this scale.

“Alfred. Hit me.” Zayn came to a halt, jumping slightly from foot to foot. He could feel the adrenaline now coursing through his veins and culminating in his mind. He suddenly felt revitalised, full of energy and ready to help. Liam could go get fucked. 

He almost believed it.

Paul glanced at him quickly as he shuffled through papers, his eyebrow raised. “Nightwing. Why the fuck would I hit you? Need you in top shape.”

Zayn groaned, throwing himself in a swivel chair and scooting slightly across the floor. “Not literally, yeah? Just like, tell me what’s happening.”

A heavy, resigned sigh. It seemed to be a constant sound from Paul’s mouth when Zayn was around. 

“We’ve got teams all over the city for the rescue ops.” There was a sudden authority in Paul’s voice, and Zayn sat up straight to look at the large screen as he continued. “At the moment, we’ve got thirty teams out.”

Zayn’s eyebrows shot up. Each team usually needed at least five people to be viable, different powers needed for each group. The compound housed about fifteen people, and  
Zayn knew of another forty or so living in the city. It definitely wasn’t enough for the 150 in the field, plus the thirty or so running around the control room. He told Paul as much, bringing flames to life in his palm to thread through his fingers. He’d always been a fidgeter.

Paul hummed, zooming out on the screen with a pinch of his fingers in the air. “We’ve called in people from all around the country, and a fair few came on their own when they heard. We need as much help as we can get. It’s a state of emergency, and the death toll’s in the hundreds.”

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Zayn had seen the carnage when he was flying around with Will, had been able to see the destroyed buildings, floods and fires. There had been fallen bridges and ripped up roads, flattened blocks with debris scattered. Still, hearing Paul say it made the breath catch in his throat before he cleared it with a cough. 

“I assume Will and Anna are out in the field. Where’s Sam?”

“Will’s got a team, but we’ve been utilising his powers a lot. He’s been zipping between rendezvous points, taking people to where they need to be. He’s quick enough to get back without much issue.” Paul frowned, distracted as he rifled through folders. “Anna’s got a team as well, and Kate’s been helping her teleport where she’s needed, along with the other healers. Sam’s out helping, even though I wanted to keep them here. There’s still awful people around, you know.”

“Yeah. Have we - like, have any of our people been hurt?”

“A few, but nothing that the healers can’t fix. It’s the cops that are the problem.” Paul was studying the screen intently just as his phone rang. He stepped away to answer, and Zayn tuned out of the conversation to give him privacy. 

There were still constant tremors, the desks and equipment swaying with each shock from the Earth. Zayn righted a pencil holder with a twist of his wrist absentmindedly, his eyes on the screen as he took in the different assignments. There were small coloured dots on each location, faces of the team’s leaders staring back at Zayn where he sat. A smaller window showed something about earthquakes, and Zayn bought it up and enlarged it with a swipe. 

_‘ - vibrations caused by rocks breaking under stress - ’ ‘ - two major fault lines under London - ’ ‘ - at most, magnitude 5 could occur - ’ _

He knew the earthquake that hit had been magnitude 8, a devastatingly high number for anywhere but especially somewhere like London, a city that hadn’t seen a proper earthquake in years. He scrolled through the information quickly, a frown on his face as his fingers flicked through the air. There were notes from Paul, lots of question marks and remarks to say it didn’t make sense that this had hit, and Zayn’s eyes darted across the room as Paul hung up the phone. Zayn waited for him to say something, not wanting to push in a situation where he likely wasn’t involved. 

“I was just talking to a seismologist in the US. There’s something strange about the earthquake that she said doesn’t make any sense, no matter how you look at it.” Paul sat down across from Zayn, eyes glued to the screen. 

“What’s the problem? I mean, you can’t predict earthquakes, yeah?” 

Paul shifted in his seat, reaching across to lay out some of the papers he’d been looking at earlier. “That’s right, but the fault lines under London shouldn’t have caused anywhere near the destruction we’ve seen. It’s nothing noteworthy really, just doesn’t seem to make sense.”

“Nothing makes sense at the moment,” Zayn mumbled, resting his head in his hands. 

Paul glanced up at him. “Will told me about Liam. I’m sorry, Zayn. Sometimes it can just be a bit much, the whole ‘finding out the love of your life is a superhero’ thing.”

“Last time I fuckin’ tell Will anything,” Zayn scoffed, but there was a small smile on his face. “He didn’t give me a choice, anyway. Had a vision of the fight, came as soon as he could to get me out of there. Also, I’m not the love of Liam’s life. He’ll just move on and find someone else. It’s fine.” His heart fractured further as the words spewed out of his mouth. 

“Nightwing,” Paul started, reaching across the table with a reassuring hand. “He’ll come around. He’d been fucking crazy to give you up. You’re meant for each other.”

Zayn blinked. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Wanker.”

Paul grinned down at the table, shuffling through the pages before he slid one across to Zayn. He caught it in mid-air as it pushed up off the surface and curled, pulling it into his grasp with a smooth movement. His eyes scanned the page briefly before he looked up in confusion. 

“Eyewitness accounts? For an earthquake.” Zayn’s voice was flat, his mind confused. “I should be out helping, you know. Not to sound like a twat, but I’m pretty powerful apparently.”

“Impossible for you not to sound like a twat.” Paul ducked as Zayn sent a pencil flying through the air, missing his forehead by an inch. “Alright, alright. Look, I need you here. Apparently people have reported a flash of light just before it happened. I want you to look into it.”

Zayn let his hands fall to the table with a _thunk_. “You can’t be serious. It was probably just electric stuff, I even saw it! Why are you actually keeping me here?” He watched Paul carefully, and then dropped his shield. Concern, protectiveness. “Oh my God. You’re worried something’s gonna happen to me? Fucks sake Paul, this isn’t the first time I’ve _been_ a superhero, you know?”

“I know that!” Paul’s fists came down on the table hard, and Zayn jumped. “But that arsehole’s still out there, and he’s obviously dangerous. I already lost the fight to keep Sam here. I’m not sending you out too when someone is obviously trying to get to you.”

“It’s my fucking _job_, Paul!” Zayn could feel his face was flushed, anger coursing through his system that seemed to be growing as Paul’s fury started to seep into him. “You can’t protect me all the time! Everyone else out there is in just as much danger as I am.”

“Everyone else isn’t _actively being targeted_, Zayn. Stop being so difficult, I need you here.”

Zayn felt dizzy with it all as he stood. The reason he was here was bullshit; he needed to be out helping everyone else, teamwork, just as they’d always been taught. Was he suddenly not good enough for Paul either? He shook his head, anger not subsiding in the slightest. 

“This is _bullshit_, and you know it,” he hissed, fire suddenly burning at his fingertips. He was suddenly aware that half of the control room were watching them, but he stood his ground. “What, suddenly I’m not capable? Fuck that.” That red hot feeling was growing, and he was helpless to stop it. It just kept coming, a fury that he suddenly realised in a panic that he didn’t think he could control. Everything went blurry, fire spreading across his palms, and then Paul was next to him. 

“Zayn, _Zayn._ You’ve just set a fucking chair on fire, can you look at me please?” 

Zayn could feel his chest heaving, the need to lash out building in a way he’d never felt before. He wasn’t an angry person by nature, never had been, and on top of everything else, he felt like he was about to have a panic attack, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t get a grip on anything, and when he tried to speak, the only sound he made was a harsh pant.

“Fuck. Alec, come here!” Paul’s voice rang through the room, everything suddenly silent as Zayn struggled to control the wave of fury crashing into his body. “I think his shield’s down, I need you to transfer something across, calm, yeah? Skin to skin. I’d do it, but I’m not in the right headspace.”

It’d been years since Zayn had needed this, needed someone to purposefully push an emotion into him when he got overwhelmed. He didn’t need it anymore, his shield strong enough to be effective and his control well-honed to pull it up when he was overwhelmed. He felt large hands take hold of his face, a forehead pressed to his, physical warmth as something nudged at his mind. 

The fire extinguished first, his hands clenching as the flames disappeared. A strong calm started to push its way through, smothering everything vicious, and when Alec pressed harder with his fingertips, suddenly everything was gone, and Zayn pulled back with a gasp. His hand flew up to grip Alec’s wrist, fingers wrapping around and squeezing as he felt one last surge flow through him. He threw his shield up and let the calm envelop him, and then Alec was pulling him forward to rest his head against his shoulder, his arms slightly stiff at his sides.

“Alright, Malik?” Alec’s voice kindly demanded an answer as his hand came up to pat awkwardly at Zayn’s back. 

Zayn snorted, pulling back slowly, eyes locking onto hazel. Alec was watching him cautiously, Paul hovering over his shoulder. “Just as affectionate as always, mate. I’m alright, thanks.” Zayn grinned at him, pleased when a small smile graced his face. “I’m not sure what happened. You’re awfully calm today, considering. I’m fucking glad for it though, don’t get me wrong.”

Alec shrugged as he moved back more, clapping Zayn on the shoulder. “Ah well, Magnus’ll do that to you. He’s a pretty good influence.”

“I assume he’s out there, yeah?” 

Magnus was, arguably, the most powerful superhero Zayn had ever met. A stunning force of nature, terrifying to go up against, but soft as anything. A startling contradiction, and also Alec’s boyfriend. Zayn always called them a power couple, something that made Magnus laugh and Alec scowl. 

“Been out there all night,” Paul interrupted as Zayn ignored him. “Nightwing, come on. Go and help Alec, please. What just happened --”

“I get it, yeah? I don’t know what it was either, okay?” Zayn knew he was being defensive, especially considering what had just happened, but Paul just clapped him on the back and sent him and Alec away.

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks. Real fucking helpful.”

*****

Zayn groaned, sprawling out on the chair and sinking in the seat. “Alec, I’m so fucking bored. It’s been two hours. We’ve seen three teams come and go. Can we please look at something else?”

Alec sighed and shot him a withering glare. “Fine. There’s been a few weird energy surges, and I don’t know if it’s anything, but most of the power in the city isn’t working. I just want to check it out.”

“Alright, where abouts?”

“There’s been a few smaller ones that I’m not overly concerned about. It’s probably where some water or something has slipped in somewhere and shorted something out,” Alec mused. 

Zayn made a soft noise of agreement as he sat up properly, looking at the map to see a small red section just to the right of the city. He raised his hand to zoom in, yelping as Alec slapped his hand away. 

“Sorry, I forgot you’re a control freak. Anyway, what’s different about this one?”

Alec rolled his eyes and zoomed in on the map. “There’s been a couple of surges here rather than just one, and they don’t seem to be electricity related.” He frowned, pulling up a 3D map of the area from the table with a shift of his hand. “I’m not sure what the energy is, but it doesn’t look good.”

Zayn ran his fingers down the reports sitting on the table, frowning as he looked them over. It was just that, a surge in energy, nothing concrete that could be detected by their systems. “What’s out that way?”

“Well, there’s the sewerage pumping station out there, and it’s active but I can’t imagine it running today.” Alec’s mouth was still set in a firm line as he rotated the model. 

“Wait, wait.” Zayn threw his hand out to stop the movements, sighing when Alec scowled. “Can’t wait until Magnus is back, might cheer you up a bit. Anyway, what’s that?” 

There was a second building just to the right, dilapidated even in the see through model. Zayn took over from Alec, ignoring his frustrated grunt, and played with the model, twisting it and zooming in and out. 

“The one that’s out there is new. This must be the older one,” Alec explained, eyes narrowed in on the building. “It’s abandoned. Could be someone out there. Everyone who saw the flash of light before the earthquake is within a 10 kilometre radius of this spot, too.”

Zayn opened his mouth to respond, just about to say they should go check it out, when one of the young students ran up to him. 

“Um, Mr. Malik, there’s a man outside to see you?”

Zayn furrowed his brow, whipping his head to look at Alec in confusion. No one was supposed to know where they were; the compound was hidden from the public. 

“Call me Zayn, love. Who is it, and how do they know he’s here?”

The boy was fidgeting as Alec pulled up the security camera stream. “He’s on the cameras, Mr. Zayn.”

“He seems to know where they are, Malik.” Alec was shifting between cameras, but every time it flicked to the one above the door, there he was, staring straight at it. His eyes were full of emotion though, and Zayn’s heart leapt into his throat. 

“Liam,” Zayn whispered, standing up so quickly that his chair fell over. “I’ll be back, Alec.”

There was a strong hand on his shoulder. “Absolutely not. Paul will kill me, and you, and I don’t trust it. How did he even know where we are? Did you tell him?”

“Alec, what the fuck? No,” Zayn shot back, spinning around to face him. “He knows about me, but he doesn’t know about the compound. I don’t know why he’s here. I’m gonna go find out, yeah?”

Alec’s hand tightened on his shoulder, and Zayn’s eyes narrowed. With one thought, Alec’s hand was lifted off of him, and he was shifted back. 

“You _know _I hate when you do that,” Alec grumbled, but Zayn just kept walking backwards.

“I know, I’m sorry, but I have to see him. Please don’t tell Paul. I’ll be straight back.”

He twisted around before Paul could see him, ran towards the front door, and took a deep breath before he stepped outside. 

God, it hurt to even look at him. Maybe he’d come to apologise or come to tell Zayn he was sorry. Maybe everything was going to be fixed now. 

Zayn needed to stop getting his hopes up. 

As soon as Liam turned to face him, gorgeous in a white t-shirt and black jeans, Zayn’s heart sank back down to his shoes. His eyes were still empty, his expression blank, and Zayn had to close his eyes to stop from crying. 

“Liam. How did you even find us?” His voice was hoarse, and he cursed to himself when he realised he sounded weak. 

“That’s not important. I just wanted to tell you to stop calling me.”

Zayn laughed incredulously as he stepped closer. “No, you know what Liam? Fuck you.” He shoved his fingers into Liam’s chest and watched him stumble back. “We’ve been friends for _years_, and I always thought maybe one day you’d develop feelings for me, maybe one day we could be together because I’ve been in love with you for _three fucking years_.” Flames licked at his skin from inside, but he held his shield strong. “Then what, huh? When I finally opened up to you, you realised you could finally just fuck me and get it out of your system? Move on and find someone _real_ to settle down with?

At least have the decency to _pretend_, Liam.” He was crying now, tears streaming down his face, but he pushed through. “At least lie to me and tell me it meant something, because otherwise I’ve just wasted three years of my life on someone who’s never going to love me back, and who turned out to be the biggest _arsehole_ I’ve ever met. You were supposed to be the one person who didn’t hurt me, you know?” Zayn sighed, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve angrily. “You may as well just lie to me one last time, Liam. The last good thing you ever do for me.”

There was silence, just sirens in the distance as Zayn waited for Liam to respond, to move, to do _anything_. 

“Everything about you was a mistake.” Liam’s voice cut through him like a physical pain. “It was fun before, seeing what I could get from you, but when I found out what you are, it wasn’t worth it. You’re a freak, Zayn. That’s all you’ll ever be.”

Suddenly Zayn was hit with a memory he’d never known before for the second time in a few days. He winced, closing his eyes as it raced through him, just like last time. He was a bit older in this one, maybe 5, or 6? There was a slightly darker energy here in this space, and Zayn shivered at the memory. There was a flash of a face, gone too quickly to hold onto, and then - _‘you’re a freak, I hate you!’_

He was ripped out of it before he could focus on anything, and when he saw Liam’s slightly smug expression, he’d had enough. He lunged forward, ready to punch him in the face, hurt him any way he could, but then there were solid arms around him and he was kicking into the air with a yelp. 

“Put me _down_, what the _fuck_.” He squirmed, jolting in the tight grip before he realised it was useless; super strength. Paul. 

“Alec, Will, get that dickhead the _fuck_ away from here and come straight back.” Paul was loud in Zayn’s ear, but his grip didn’t loosen as he stepped back into the compound and slammed the door. 

The second they were inside, Zayn was dropped and shoved back, stumbling in the hallway. He gritted his teeth, looked up defiantly at Paul, and then Paul was angrier than Zayn had ever seen. 

“I can’t fucking _believe _how selfish you just were,” Paul roared, and Zayn straightened up. “Not only did you just risk your own life, you risked the lives of everyone in this _fucking_ compound. I have never, in my life, been this angry at you!” 

Zayn felt numb, shame and guilt gnawing at him when he realised Paul was right; anything could’ve happened to him when he was out there, and someone could’ve had full access to inside. He saw Alec and Will slip back through the door, and he let out a shaky breath.

“‘m sorry okay, I’m sorry! I had to see him, I had to _know_ why he was here.” Zayn swallowed a sob, startled when he felt Will’s hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.”

“Was it at least _worth_ it, Zayn? Did you get _any_ closure? Because the way you are right now, you’re an absolute fucking liability to the team, and there’s no way I’m sending you out there.”

The shame deepened, clawing at him desperately until he felt sick. He felt Will’s reassuring squeeze and closed his eyes. 

“No.” 

Paul huffed out a harsh breath. “No what?”

“No, it wasn’t worth it.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, and then Paul was right in front of him. 

“Look, I’m sorry Nightwing, I am. I’m sorry that Liam turned out to be an absolute wanker, but the way you are right now? I can’t trust you out there. The team’s too important.” Paul clapped him on the shoulder, and he looked up through watery eyes. “You’re too important, yeah? Everyone is.”

Just like that, Zayn was gasping for breath as he doubled over. He could hear all three men calling out to him, but another buried memory slammed back into him, and he could already feel the phantom, furious anger attached to it.

Older again this time. Maybe 8? He looked remarkably similar to the first memory he had; the day he met Paul. There was that face again, but this time it was more in focus. Pointed features, dark eyes, a wicked sneer. He was older, maybe by 10 years or so, and he was screaming, his tone sarcastic. _‘Because it’s always you, isn’t it? You’re just toooo important’._

When he blinked and opened his eyes, the image gone and the emotion following, he was panting slightly, and Alec was holding him up. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Paul asked, voice heavy with concern. 

Zayn gripped onto Alec’s arm to steady himself as he stood. “I don’t know, I keep getting these flashes, these memories that I’ve never seen before. They’re angry, and there’s someone I don’t know in them.”

“How old are you in the memories? Hi, darling.” 

They all spun around at the new voice in the room, and Zayn got to witness his favourite phenomenon; Alec’s entire face softening and his lips curling up as he strode over to greet Magnus with a kiss and a gentle hand to his cheek. 

“Oh, hey. It varies, so between two and eight?” He let his eyes skim over Magnus, relieved when there was no obvious injury. 

Magnus hummed thoughtfully, tucking himself under Alec’s arm. “Maybe call your parents. I feel like they’ll be able to help. Paul, we should debrief.” And then the three of them were gone, strolling towards Paul’s private office. 

It made perfect sense to call his parents. They’d been texting him since the earthquake to make sure he was okay, but he hadn’t had a chance to speak with them on the phone yet. It had to be someone from his childhood. It was obviously someone constant, and he hadn’t met Paul until after all of this, so surely his parents knew something.

Will’s voice broke the silence. “I saw your fight with Liam just now, in a vision. That’s how Paul knew to go find you. I’d say sorry, but the things he was saying were awful, mate. He deserved to be thrown on his arse.”

Zayn chuckled, running his hands down roughly down his face. “Why do you keep seeing me and Liam in your visions, mate? Some weird kink I don’t know about?”

Will waggled his eyebrows. “Dunno, but it’s pretty fuckin’ weird. I’ve been tryin’ to focus on visions that relate to mystery man, or the earthquake, but they always seem to come back to you lads.” He frowned before shrugging, pressing a messy kiss to Zayn’s cheek, and walking away. “Call your parents!”

With a soft smile, Zayn headed into his room, sat on his bed with a pushed out breath, and called his mum.

_“Zayn! How are you, sweetheart? How’s everything going?”_

He curled up slightly with a grin, settling properly into the bed. “Hi. Everything’s okay, considering. We’re doing what we can, but I’m back at the compound with Paul.”

_“As long as you’re safe.”_

“I am.” He fidgeted with the loose threads on the duvet. “I’m really sorry, but this has to be a quick call. I just have some questions.”

_“That’s okay, love. Any call from you is a good call.”_

Zayn could feel tears welling up in his eyes again, but he blinked them back. “I keep having these, like, _flashes_ of memories. There’s a man in them, and I’m really young, and everything’s red and angry, and I thought maybe you’d know more about it. Do you know who it is?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a long time, and Zayn was just about to ask his mum if she was still there when she spoke, a sob evident in her voice. 

_“I’m so sorry, Zayn. We were going to tell you, I promise, we just didn’t know when the right time was, and then you got older and we didn’t know how to tell you.”_

Zayn froze, a million possibilities running through his head. He took a deep breath; there was no point guessing. “It’s okay, I just don’t understand.” 

A deep breath, a long exhale. _“I was married before I met your father, which you already know.”_ Zayn nodded before realising she couldn’t see him. _“But we also had a child. He was about 10 years older than you, and your father and I kicked him out of the house when you eight.”_

Of all the possibilities, Zayn hadn’t thought for _one second_ that this would be one of them. “I have a half-brother? Mum --”

_“I know Zayn, I know. He was just - he was so angry all the time, Zayn. You were such a fierce child, so furious all the time and we couldn’t figure out why. With Paul’s help, we realised later it was because of your powers. It was sucking up all of your brother’s anger, and you were so small.”_ There was a small sob on the other end of the line, and Zayn squeezed his eyes shut. 

_“You just never stood a chance against him. He was so vicious Zayn, and cruel. He never physically hurt you, but he didn’t need to. His emotions bled so far into you that we thought you’d never be okay, always yelling and screaming and throwing things. The only times we had peace was when he was off exploring the old sewage plant. God knows what he did there.”_

Zayn realised he’d hardly been breathing. “In the memories, he’s yelling at me, telling me I’m a freak.”

_“He was beyond jealous of your powers, love, hated that he didn’t have any. He was fascinated with mind control. He tried to create things that gave him powers, tried to build machines that did it for him, but we all know that’s not how it works. It just made him angrier, more furious at the world and at you. We tried to calm him down, took him to psychologists and everything, but nothing worked.”_

“He hated me.”

There was a shaky breath. _“He did, and you just a child. I’m so sorry, Zayn. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out, please don’t be angry.”_

He wasn’t, couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at his parents. They’d just been trying to protect him from something he didn’t even know he needed protection from. He let the phone hover near his ear and clenched his fingers together.

“‘m not mad. It’s just, it’s a lot to take in. Why did you and Baba kick him out?”

_“He was getting older, and stronger, and more aggressive. It was much too dangerous for you to be around him. You repressed all your memories of him, but he was evil, Zayn. Pure evil and exceptionally intelligent. A lethal combination. The night he left was the biggest relief.”_

Zayn felt the build-up of emotions before he saw the flash of the memory, and the rage was so intense that everything in his room shifted slightly when his mind jolted. He was cowering in a corner, his mum holding him tightly as his dad pushed his brother - _his brother -_ out the door. 

And then he saw it, the thin silver visible from where his duffel bag was open near the front door. It was different, not as sleek and polished, obviously a prototype with screws and square and rectangular sections, but there was no mistaking it. 

It was the same mask.

Inside, he knew that he’d known the truth the second his mum had mentioned a brother. Realistically though, everything was now slowly clicking into place. 

The anger he felt at every memory was the same harsh emotion he’d felt at the old commissioner’s house, and in his home. 

The now obvious use of mind control on the hired goons, and why Zayn had felt their fear.

The way the man had known his name, had spat it at him and tracked him down. 

The brief phrases that made sense now, the _‘too important’_ sneered at him in the mansion, the ‘_selfish, as always’ _thrown at him at the boy’s place. 

The mask, staring at him now from his own memory.

_Fuck_. 

“Mum, I’m sorry, I have to go. Thank you, I’m not mad, but I have to go.” Zayn rushed out, standing to bolt from the room towards Paul’s office.

_“Okay love, please come home soon. We have a lot to talk about. Love you, be safe.”_

“Love you too, bye.”

He slid in front of the glass door, saw Alec, Magnus, and Will all in there with Paul, and burst in. 

Paul stared at him, unimpressed. “Zayn, we’re in the middle of a --”

“Could someone have engineered the earthquake? You should it didn’t make sense naturally, Paul, could someone have developed something that engineered it?” 

It was Magnus who responded. “It’d have to be a powerful piece of equipment, incredibly so, but I suppose it’s possible, right?” Magnus turned to look at Paul, but Paul was staring at Zayn. 

“It is possible,” Paul said slowly, and Zayn could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “What brought this on?”

Zayn explained everything he’d just been told on the phone, and everything he’d connected. It all made _perfect_ sense, fuck. By the time he’d finished, the four men were staring at him, and Zayn had never seen them all completely speechless. 

“If he has mind control, why wouldn’t he just control you with it though?” Magnus mused, staring off into the distance. “I’m not saying I don’t believe it, because I think you’re 100% correct, but that does seem odd, doesn’t it?”

Zayn had already thought of that, though. “I don’t think he can get through my shield. He just uses it on other people to get to me.”

There was an almost vicious gasp from Will that made Zayn swear. 

“Zayn. You said you couldn’t pick up any emotions with Liam, right? That he was blank, that it’d never happened before?” Will seemed almost excited to have figured something out, so Zayn just nodded. “He’s using it on _Liam_, Zayn! That explains the drastic shift and how you can see glimpses of the real Liam in there! He’s aware, Zayn, he knows, he just can’t control himself.”

“But I could feel the fear on the hired men, I can’t feel anything on Liam.” Zayn was desperate for it to be true, but not unless he was sure.

Will sighed, obviously frustrated. “You did, though. Once, when you told him you love him and you pushed to find his emotions, the way you can see it in his eyes sometimes.”

“I’m never telling you anything ever again.”

“Whatever. Anyway, it also explains why I keep seeing flashes of you and Liam when I’m trying to look into the other stuff!”

“It’s all connected,” Zayn whispered. 

Will beamed at him. “It’s all connected, Zaynie baby.” He let out a yelp as Zayn whipped a stapler at him with a click. “Okay, okay. Not a good new nickname, got it.”

Suddenly, Paul was standing, fists clenched and eyes like a storm. “Alright. Where do we find him?”

“Well, he’d be emitting a lot of energy, I’d imagine.” Zayn’s eyes snuck to look at Alec, and he got to watch as it hit him. 

“The old sewage plant.” Alec swung back to Paul. “We were looking into it today, he’s at the old sewage plant.”

Paul took a deep breath, Will looked too excited, and Alec and Magnus just looked ready for a fight. 

“Alright. Let’s go get this arsehole.”


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing's ever like the movies, but it's still perfect.

“You _just said_, and I quote, ‘let’s go get this arsehole’!”

“I didn’t mean you, Zayn. You’re staying here.”

Zayn scoffed out a laugh as they all suited up. “If you think I’m staying here, you’re fucking crazy. It’s _my _brother, _my _Liam, _my_ battle, not yours!”

Paul was annoyed, his eyebrows knitted together and his mouth set. “It’s _everyone’s _battle, Zayn, and —.”

“Including mine!”

“This isn’t a discussion, Malik.” The use of his last name from Paul made him pause. “It’s way too much of a risk. You’re too emotionally connected with it just being your brother, but with Liam as well? There’s absolutely no way I’m letting you into that sewage plant.”

Magnus wrinkled his nose. “It’s going to smell in there, isn’t it.”

Zayn ignored him. “Paul, please. I can’t just sit here while I have no idea what’s going on, I’ll go insane.”

“Will’s going to stay here with you,” Paul said firmly, continuing loudly over Will’s protests, “and Kate’s going to drop us off.” 

He couldn’t believe this. He’d figured it out, it was his enemy, and he deserved to be the one to bring him down. There was a buzzing under his skin, a simmering anger at the death and destruction his brother had caused and the fierce need to protect not just his friends and Liam, but the city of London. 

“Please, Paul. Please. I need to know Liam’s okay; I _have _to be the one to do this.”

Paul came over and clapped both hands on Zayn’s shoulders. “You just confirmed the biggest problem, mate. Your first priority is Liam. It’s too personal for you. I promise we’ll bring him back, Nightwing. I promise.”

Zayn knew a lost cause when he saw one, and Paul never backed down. He sniffed, turning around to hide his face in his hands as he let his frustration manifest in harmless fire. 

“If anything happens to him, and I mean _anything, _I don’t know what I’ll do,” Zayn warned, his voice slow but sure. 

“Oh, do calm down, darling. You know that we know what we’re doing.” Magnus was ready, slipped into his sparkly suit with an ease that showed how long he’d been doing this. “We’ll bring your boy back, don’t worry.” 

Zayn let himself sulk until they left, whisked away by Kate in a swirl of power. He’d still hugged them all tightly though, and when he settled back into Paul’s office with Will, he realised he hadn’t spoken to the boys in a while.

Louis answered on the third ring. 

_“Hey Zaynie, what are you up to?”_

Zayn was instantly suspicious, the sounds in the background of the call too familiar. “Lou, where the fuck are you?”

There was a pause. _“Tracking down Liam using the Find My iPhone app?” _

Zayn’s blood ran cold. “No, Louis, turn the fuck around. Where are you?”

_“Relax, we’re worried about him! We’re closing in on the sewage plant for some reason. Gross.” _Zayn could hear Niall shouting in the background, Harry’s giggle right next to the phone. It warmed him for a second before he remembered the problem. 

“No, Louis, Liam’s being controlled by that guy who tried to kill you all. You _have_ to turn around, you’re not safe there.”

There was a crackle of static. _“I - breaking up - find Liam and - all be good, Zaynie.”_

“Louis! Louis, turn _around_, fuck.” He paced anxiously around the office as Will watched, concern and curiosity clear on his face. “Louis, it’s too dangerous, please just —.”

The line went dead, and Zayn’s mind was already made up. He swung around to stare at Will, gaze hard and fists clenched. He was staring into the distance, but Zayn spoke anyway. 

“We’re suiting up, and you’re taking me there right now. No arguments, no nothing.”

Will’s expression cleared, and he locked eyes with Zayn. “No arguments here, mate. I just had a vision, and I know what to do. Let’s go.” 

*****

The first thing that hit Zayn was the smell. He gagged as soon as he climbed off Will’s back, staggering as he pinched his nose. 

“This is _not_ a good time. It better not be this bad inside.” Will sniffed the air as he spoke, wrinkling his nose, and Zayn rolled his eyes. 

“Why would you voluntarily sniff the air?”

There was a scuffle in the bushes behind them and they both spun around, flames already crackling at Zayn’s fingertips, when a familiar yelp made him throw his arm out to stop Will. 

“Haz?”

“Oh, thank fuck, it’s just you.” Harry’s head stuck out from the bushes, Louis’ and Niall’s popping out just underneath, and Zayn couldn’t stop the grin from stretching across his face. 

He jogged over as they tumbled out of the bushes, and then they were all tangled up in a hug that made Zayn feel warm and content for the first time since he’d had to leave them. 

“Fuck, I’m so glad you’re all okay.” He pulled back to whack Louis on the back of the head, ignoring his ‘_ow’_. “I told you to turn back Louis, it’s not safe here. Liam’s being controlled by that prick that was in the flat the other day.”

They all stared at him, eyes wide, until Niall spoke. “Is your life always this ridiculous, or are we just lucky enough to be involved in this one?”

“Just lucky, mate.”

Niall nodded solemnly. “Sweet. Anyway, let’s go get Payno.”

“Nope, you’re all staying out here. It’s too dangerous in there, and you’ll definitely get hurt.” Harry made a wounded noise and Louis’ fingers flew to his hair. “Sorry Haz, but you’re definitely too clumsy.”

Louis pressed a kiss to Harry’s temple that made Zayn smile. “Zayn, we could get hurt out here too. Just let us come in, yeah? You can make sure we’re protected that way.”

“That’s manipulative, Lou.” Zayn sighed heavily, groaning into the still night. “Fine, fine, for fucks sake.”

With a triumphant sound from Louis and a welcoming wave from Will, they were all heading to the abandoned plant, against all better judgement. Zayn explained everything to the boys as they jumped over broken walkways and squeezed through small gaps, and by the time they seemed to be just outside the main room, he was just wrapping up. 

“So, you know what to do when you get in there then?”

“Yeah,” Zayn replied easily, stepping gingerly through a liquid he didn’t want to think about. “He’s too egotistical to avoid the whole ‘I’m the villain, let me explain my story’ thing, so I’m just gonna do it while he’s talking.”

“Great.” Will slapped him on the back. “Lads, there’s a small alcove just inside the door. No one should see you if you just slip in there.” 

Zayn waited until the boys all nodded, and then pushed the door open. 

There were people _everywhere,_ the boys ducking to hide in the alcove, superheroes battling mindless criminals over the whole floor, and there, right at the top of the end cement stairs; his brother, Liam by his side. 

“Alright, just whistle if you need me.” And then Will was off, flying through the air and taking down a man with a knife. 

Zayn watched for a moment, saw Paul holding three men and throwing them into the stagnant water, saw Alec and Magnus working together to take down dozens of enemies at once, watched as Kate made someone so dizzy with her teleportation that they fell. He could just make out Anna fighting with a tall man, possibly about to lose, so with a flick of his wrist, a pillar fell right on top of him. 

That drew his attention.

“Ah, finally! I was surprised not to see you in the first group, Lightning.” His brother was almost managing to sneer through his mask, regardless of the fact that it covered his entire face. “It’s about time you paid me a visit.”

“Well, that’s what family’s for, yeah?”

Zayn watched with twisted amusement as his brother froze, his gloved hand twitching. 

“I guess I didn’t give you enough credit, did I? I wasn’t enough sure you’d remember me.”

There was a shout from Zayn’s left, and suddenly Will was hovering behind his brother and pointing directly at a small, black box. 

Ah. This was gonna be easy.

He let his eyes flick to Liam, and he tried to reassure them that he knew now, that everything was okay and that he’d be safe. There was no way for him to do that without alerting everyone else though, and so he just had to stand there and stare. 

His brother’s gaze, angry and burning, landed on Liam, his words still directed at Zayn as he slowly moved. “It was _so easy _to manipulate your...friend. As soon as I realised that I’d perfected the mind control device, it was as simple as waiting until he fell asleep. It was almost perfect at the I trap set for you, but you could still _feel _their emotions, they were still too _aware._ It wasn’t good enough, but it is now.” 

He ran his finger down Liam’s cheek, and Zayn stepped forward, teeth bared and flames at his fingertips. His shield was solid, as strong as it had ever been, and despite everything happening around him, he had one goal. 

The first screw slipped loose from the box. 

His brother hadn’t seemed to have noticed anything. “After that, it was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Making him break your heart was, well,” he paused, “perfection. Finally getting to see my _perfect_ little brother destroyed, shattered over a _man_, no less. I couldn’t have planned it better.” 

Zayn didn’t even hear a noise as the second screw fell, surrounded by screams and the sound of punches hitting home. 

“Because you always were perfect, weren’t you Zayn? Loved and adored by our mother and my stepfather, the favourite child because you had _special abilities,” _he hissed, sending out an obvious wave of fury. It bounced seamlessly off Zayn’s shield. “You have no idea how easily I could’ve killed you, how easily I could kill you now if I want to. But I won’t, because that’s too easy.”

Fucking hell, Zayn was standing in his suit, in the middle of an intense battle, and he was _bored. _His brother really took the ‘evil plan reveal’ speech a bit too far. 

The third screw bounced off the table and hit the ground. 

“The earthquake was just the icing on the cake, really. It was so easy to tap into the underground pipes and get through to the plates to set it all up. Once it was done, it was just so incredibly satisfying to watch you fail to fix it, a failure to London once again.”

Zayn paused at that, the last screw halfway out. “Wait, what was the point of the earthquake? Surely you had some bigger picture than ‘piss my brother off’. Hundreds of people _died_, the city is destroyed! What the fuck does that have to do with me?” 

“It shows how useless you really are, little brother! How you’re not worthy of anyone’s praise. When the city needed you most, you were too heartbroken to help.”

Zayn threw his hands up and scoffed. “It was a _magnitude 9 earthquake,_ you psychopath. Literally nothing I could’ve done would’ve fixed it. You destroyed an entire _city._ How exactly was I supposed to undo that?” He shot a pointed look at him, his eyebrows raised expectantly. 

His brother paused, and Zayn relished in the fact that he was floundering. 

“Well, I - you didn’t help afterwards!”

Oh, for fucks sake. 

“Honestly mate, this might just be the worst plan I’ve ever heard. I assumed you would’ve had _something_ against the city of London as a whole, yeah?” Zayn carefully kept his eyes on his brother as Will hovered directly behind him and Liam. “You know, making Liam break my heart, which by the way isn’t a thing anymore, seeing as I know you did it, just meant that I had to stay back at the compound. Staying back there was the reason I was able to figure it out, so,” Zayn shrugged, “your plan actually made it possible to find you. Bit of a fuck up, that.”

Another wave of red hot rage, but Zayn’s shield held. He knew he’d be tired soon, exhausting all his strength on the shield, but he was so close to victory that he could taste it.

“Why aren’t you _falling_?” His brother was panting, exerting himself from using his machines, and Zayn couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Surely you know I have a shield, right? A mental one?” At the blank look on his brother’s face, he realised that the media didn’t know about his shield; they didn’t have to. “Ah, I guess not. You know, I thought you’d timed it perfectly when you got me the last few times, but now I realise it was just dumb _luck_ that my shield was down. That’s awkward for you.”

There was a scream of rage, muffled slightly by the mask. “I don’t have _luck_; I have intelligence and skill and everything you don’t! Your powers are _weak_, Lightning, and you never stood a chance.”

Zayn scoffed before he goaded. “What an ego. What’s interesting is that my powers had nothing to do with figuring everything out. I did that all on my own, so not only am I smarter than you, but I also have _real _powers. I didn’t have to invent _shit_.”

The perfect push too far. His brother roared and stepped away from the box just as the last screw fell. In one swift motion, Zayn threw fire at the metal contraption, a blast of sparks signalling the end of its power, and when his brother turned around to see what had happened, Zayn shoved him backwards into Will’s arms with a flick of his wrist. His mask was ripped off, his final faux superpower gone, and when Zayn stared at him, the only person staring back was a slightly terrified looking young man.

“Wanna say anything to him, Zaynie?”

Zayn studied him for a second, his eyes wide and jaw clenched, before he waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, Falcon. Not worth it.”

And he realised he wasn’t lying. Everything he’d been feeling seemed to have simply boiled down to pity for the man in front of him, and he didn’t even deserve that.

It took Zayn a moment to realise the fighting had stopped, the controlled men all standing around awkwardly as the mind control had been destroyed, left now to realise they were stuck in a situation they’d never agreed on in the first place. Magnus and Alec seemed to be slowly grouping them all together, so Zayn turned his attention to Paul.

“Is it actually over? Is that seriously it?” Zayn knew he sounded incredulous. “He seemed so intimidating, so terrifying out in the world, but here,” Zayn shook his head, watching as his brother was bound and given to Kate to teleport back to the compound, “he just seemed sad.”

Paul slung his arm over his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. “It’s much easier to hide behind a persona than have someone know who you are, Nightwing.” He roughed a hand through Zayn’s hair. “Speaking of, your boy’s free. I’m going back to the compound to deal with this whole thing. I don’t want to see you for _at least_ a week, alright?”

Zayn felt Paul nudge him to look at Liam, but he didn’t need the prompting. There he was, standing in the middle of the room, and Zayn quickly swept his body for injuries before his gaze leapt to his eyes.

Clear, swimming with tears, crinkled slightly at the corners. When he saw the warmth and kindness and love reflected there, he ripped off his mask, and let the tears pool in his eyes. He was running before he even realised, leaping into Liam’s arms and wrapping his legs around his waist, slightly off kilter, but it didn’t matter. Liam was holding him so tightly that he thought he could break, but all it did was make him hold on tighter, his arms around Liam’s neck. Zayn buried his face in Liam’s neck, took a deep breath, and dropped his shield.

The first tear fell out of pure relief. Everything he usually felt from Liam slid slowly up his body, crashed into his mind, and burrowed into his bones. There was something new now though, something he’d only caught snippets of before, the feeling that Liam kept buried. He was pushing it directly to the surface now, like he wanted Zayn to notice it, and he startled when he realised what it was. He felt warm again, felt like he could _breathe_ again, and so he pulled back, tangled his fingers in Liam’s hair, and slammed their mouths together.

He’d intended for it to be gentle and soft, a gorgeous reunion of love and forgiveness, but everything was gathering too quickly. Liam’s arm under his bum hoisted him higher as the other snaked up to cup his cheek, and when Liam’s tongue licked into his mouth, he whined and wrapped himself further around him.

Liam pulled back with a soft sound, panting as he stroked along Zayn’s cheekbone.

“I love you. I’ve loved you since I met you, and I’ve loved you every day since, and every second that I spent having no control over my body killed me because I thought I’d never get to say it.” He thumbed over Zayn’s bottom lip now, his gaze travelling over Zayn’s face, and Zayn trembled in his arms. “I love you when you’re studying on my bed, all sprawled out and gorgeous. I love you when you accidentally get paint on me because you’re so tired from finishing an assignment and don’t realise it’s all over you. I love you when you let me dress as Batman for Halloween every year, and I love you when you refuse to dress as Robin. It all makes sense now.” A wide grin that took Zayn’s breath away. “I love you when you’re mad at me for eating the last piece of bread, even though it’s my house. I love you when you try to make samosas like your mum’s and get frustrated that they don’t taste the same. I love you when you make me feel like I’m invincible, which is every day.

I love you when you’re a student pretending to work at a bar on weeknights, and when you’re a real life superhero who flings fire around like it’s nothing and knows how I’m feeling all the time. I love you as Lightning, and Nightwing, but most of all, darling,” he rubbed their noses together as Zayn choked on a sob, “I love you when you’re _Zayn_, every single one of these combined, every piece of you that I get to see. I love you.”

Zayn was openly crying now, audience be damned. “I love you too, Liam. I’m so in love with you.”

And then they were kissing again, and Magnus and Alec were applauding and whooping as the rounded up men stood awkwardly nearby, but Liam’s mouth was warm, and his cheeks were wet, and every time he breathed, Zayn felt like he was home.

“Hey, not that it wasn’t sick as fuck, but like, I thought it’d go for longer, you know?”

Zayn pulled back, laughing when Liam chased his lips, and turned his head to look at Niall. “The kiss, or the fight?”

*****

Despite Paul’s insistence that Zayn didn’t show up to the compound for a week, it was hours before Zayn and Liam trudged back into the flat he shared with Louis. Miraculously, it was completely intact, and Louis had pointed out that it seemed like a final fuck you to his brother. Will had taken Niall, Louis, and Harry back almost immediately, but Liam had insisted on going with Zayn back to the compound while he finished up the job.

It’d been tedious, but incredibly satisfying, to close the files on both cases at once. His brother was being held somewhere that Zayn didn’t even know, and he didn’t care enough to ask. The earthquake survivors had all been found thanks to the supers with X-ray vision, and any bodies had been taken for identification and burial.

“Zayn, please just go home,” Paul groaned, glancing pointedly where Liam was standing outside the door, smiling at everyone that walked past. “Look at him, take him and go home, and don’t come back for a fucking week at least, okay? Just enjoy it.”

“There’s so much to do, Paul! There’s rubble to clear and things to sort and –.”

Paul groaned, his head falling to his desk with a _thwack_. “Did you know that you take on almost 50% of all cases that come through here on your own?”

“What? That can’t be right.” Zayn leant forward in the chair to stare at him, certain he’d misspoke.

“Yep, 48% or something ridiculous.” He rested his chin on his fist, pushing up to rest his elbow on the surface. “It’s for a lot of reasons. It’s because you’re exceptionally powerful, you have incredible control, and you don’t fuck about. I know I can trust you with anything I give you, and you’ll get the job done.” Paul shifted some papers around on his desk. “You don’t give yourself anywhere near as much credit as you deserve, Zayn. Take the week off. You work hard enough as it is.”

Zayn sat silently for a moment; maybe he could take the week off. Maybe him and Liam could go visit their families or go away to the countryside for a few days. Realistically, he knew they’d probably spend almost all of it in bed, and his face flushed crimson at the thought.

“Okay, I will. Just promise me you’ll me if you need me, yeah? For anything.” Zayn pointed a stern finger at Paul as he stood up, but the other man just laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Go enjoy the love of your life.”

Zayn laughed, throwing open the door and entwining his fingers with Liam’s. “I will. Thanks, Alfred.”

“Anytime, Nightwing.”

Kate had convinced them to let her teleport them to the flat, and when they finally got there, all three of the boys were asleep. Zayn grinned at them, Harry and Louis curled up together on the couch, Niall on the armchair, even though there was two beds in the flat.

He went to pull Liam through to his bedroom when he realised he desperately needed a shower. It’d only taken a soft whispered question of the word to convince Liam they should take one together, and they’d undressed each other slowly, lingering touches and careful words. There was nothing sexual about it though, just the two of them holding each close. Liam had trailed kisses down his stomach and thighs, but one look at him had shown that it was out of love and adoration, not an immediate feeling of want, so Zayn had pulled him back up and kissed him until the water ran cold.

They’d stumbled to bed, pushing paintbrushes and sketches to the floor, and Zayn had hardly been able to keep his eyes open. By the time Liam curled up behind him with an arm around his waist, safe and secure and strong, Zayn was fast asleep.

When he woke up, blinking sleep back from his eyes and yawning, Liam was watching him carefully, fingers gently running through his hair. His shield was down, and Liam’s apprehension and nerves wrapped around him tentatively. He shifted back, threw up his shield to give Liam some privacy, and squinted up through the morning light.

“Wha’sit, love?”

Liam just smiled softly at him, his voice a careful whisper. “You know I never meant anything I said when I was under his control, right? I think you’re brilliant.”

Zayn closed his eyes when Liam’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him close. He searched blindly for his lips, humming when he managed to catch them with his own.

“I know, babe. I know you didn’t mean it.” There was a lazy sort of arousal that hung in the air, a soft burning that made Zayn sigh when he ran his hand down Liam’s back. “You couldn’t help it. I think you’re brilliant, too.” He kissed Liam harder now, pulling back quickly just to whisper. “Brave.”

From there, everything grew hazy and hot, and Zayn lost himself in the way that Liam took him apart differently when he knew they loved each other, that they were both in love. Everything felt just on the edge of too much; _too_ good, _too_ much pleasure. By the time that Liam slowly slid inside him, groaning into Zayn’s ear, Zayn had come twice, and everything Liam did just pushed him closer back to the edge. There was nothing to hide behind now, and Zayn felt vulnerable and protected all at once. Liam somehow already knew exactly where to kiss, where to touch, the perfect angle to make him come undone, and when Liam told him that he loved him, right in his ear, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

He was in a slight daze when he came back down to Liam slowly pulling out of him with a wince. They’d stayed wrapped up in each other all day, sharing kisses and stories of times from their friendship when they’d known their love was strongest.

Eventually, Louis had convinced them to come out of the room under the promise of food, so they’d all sat on the floor, sharing Chinese takeaway and watching Batman on TV.

“Ah, fuck.” Liam swore, jolting Zayn where he was resting back on Liam’s chest in between his spread legs.

“What, Payno? Spill somethin’?”

Liam sighed so heavily that Zayn’s body followed the movement. “No. I have an assignment due tomorrow.”

Louis cackled, and then suddenly all four of them were whipping words back and forth faster than Zayn’s tired mind could keep up with. He settled back against Liam’s chest, grinning when he pressed a kiss to Zayn’s temple.

Zayn could always count on them to support him, to make him feel better or help him when he was sad. Every room they were all in felt like the best thing he’d ever known, and he knew he’d never find that anywhere else; they were all so different inside, but still perfectly complimentary to each other, and to Zayn’s mind and soul.

Smiling, Zayn closed his eyes, and dropped his shield.

Perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for reading!  
I really hope you loved reading this as much as I loved writing it.  
Kudos and comments fuel my soul.  
I’d absolutely love it if you’d reblog my fic post [here](https://lightwoodsmagic.tumblr.com/post/188106283652/just-as-fast-twice-as-dangerous-by) too! :)   
Thank you again x


End file.
